The Craving
by ScampsCute
Summary: Lord Harkon's desire for blood & power is something he can control, but his new craving for the valiant red-head who stumbled into his castle becomes something he can't forbear. A ravenous hunger sweeps over them, & the girl's hatred towards vampires slowly slips away, when she awakes next to the Vampire Lord himself. HarkonxOC Rated M for violence, strong langauge & sexual content
1. Rain Then Lighting

**Hello Everyone! **

**So this idea has been brewing in my head for a while and I was itching to write something about the delectable Vampire Lord, Harkon, ever since he appeared in the game. There was just something about him which caught my attention o.o**

**Thank you for giving this FanFic a go, I hope that you will enjoy it. I urge you to please leave a review so that I know how I am doing and I would love to hear what you guys think of the story. It will be very appreciated ^.^**

**Anyway I'll stop my rambling now haha. Enjoy ~**

**WARNING. CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE, THEMES AND SUGGESTIONS. ADVISABLE AGE WOULD BE 18+**

* * *

><p>The nipping ice sting pinched at her wrists when she yanked her arms too hard. The chiming scream of metal clashed against the brick wall, and the sickly rattling ringing and scratching of shackles made her quake. A short gasp sprung from her tongue when she saw the heavy metal chains swathed around her limbs, and her breath was snatched away, when she finally peered up. A lump slowly crawled down her throat, as she met the dark, bewitching eyes, from the vicious, malicious creature that perched over her, with a sinful sneer that dripped of poison and thirst, stretching to his pale cheeks…<p>

* * *

><p>The cascade of ice rain, spitting out from the grey sky, penetrated the earth and hissed as it hit the ground. The thunder of the ice droplets crashing on rocks, and smashing against the earth, or ripping at the trees, was enough to send any traveller to scurry into an inn or quickly race back home…Home. Where the blistering flickering fire heats your nose and cheeks like a warm hug, when stretching out your neck to smell the burning logs and sickly ashes. The sweet fragrance of honeyed mead wandering like lingering smoke through the corridors and scented rooms. The smell of roasted food, the softness of your bed; the snug embrace of the covers coating you.<p>

If only it was that sweet…

Each ice droplet of rainwater splashed onto the wandering nord's skin and body, ripping at her skin and freezing her bones, making it even harder for the lost nord girl to tread one foot in front of the other. The earth bled beneath her boots, gushing out pools of liquid mud and spitting out clumps of rock and strands of shrivelled grass. Her body quaked, shaking like a ragdoll in the hands of a wilful child, and even tightly folding her wet arms would not curb the cold that ensnared her. It didn't help with the air being so cold. The ice chill of Skyrim was harsh, with the callous breeze whispering through the trees, nipping at bare arms and clinging onto clothes and amour like leeches. Though the chill now was particularly fierce. The ice air ripped the flesh of the shuddering nord girl who strayed outside, pinching at her pale skin and gnawing on her bones with venomous icy teeth.

A whimper slipped from her lips, stifled from the cold air that was difficult to breathe in. Warm tears brimmed her long ebony eyelashes and rolled down her cheeks, dripping from her jaw and chin and falling to her breasts. She had lost count of how many hours she had been walking. Couldn't recall when the rain began to beat down on her. Forgotten about the hunger that ripped inside her gut. Ignored the pain inflicted across her body. She didn't even know where she was going. Couldn't remember why she began to walk in the first place. No weapon. No food. No drink. Nothing but the drenched clothes on her back that scratched at her skin, and the heavy amulet that scuffed against her chest.

Each step was becoming more difficult. Each lift of her leg a tormenting chore. Even keeping her head elevated was becoming difficult to achieve. Her copper hair clung to her cheek, dripping with droplets of rain; heavy like stone, from the water that it soaked up. She could hardly keep her balance as she continued to glumly trudge in the torrential rain that was crumbling her. She lifted her head, heavy puffs of ragged breath spurting from her mouth, looking into the horizon with her clouded vision. Day was crumbling into night before her eyes, and she watched in despair as the land swallowed up the roaring red sun. The whispers of the wind made her head faint, and the quaking of the earth beneath her feet made her dizzy. Was the earth going to collapse into itself? Or was it all just in her head?

She shuddered, craning her neck so that droplets of rainwater crashed onto her face, and spilled down her skin. Her lips parted, so that a droplet splashed onto the tip of her tongue. It didn't help. Without much more warning she felt her body sway, and her head spin like the spiralling of a coin. Her body began to tremble, swamped with a tingling sensation that made her sick. Then her legs gave up on her, and like the falling of a broken tree, she collapsed - her body crashing into the ground with quaking thud that tremored through the thunderous air. She didn't have time to think. Didn't have time to act.

(xxxx)

The clicking of heavy hooves tapping on the gravelled mud was all that could be heard now. The rain had ceased and the moaning breeze had become mute. A majestic horse, with strong shoulders, a beautiful long neck and long legs, had terminated its trotting. Its beautiful brown fur was like the coat of a bear, with splashes of pale ebony tint on its snout and on its socks. A low whine rumbled in its throat as it prodded the girl that lay on the floor, blowing hot breath on the girl's neck and nuzzling her tangled damp red hair with its snout. It neighed again, scraping its hoof in the ground and nudging the girl's shoulder gently with its long muzzle. Its pointed brown ears twitched when the girl moved her finger, slowly lifting her head with her eyes squinting, like the shape sunflower seeds. Her lips parted, and soon her head slammed back to the floor. The horse whined again, crouching down to its knees and laid beside the girl, nudging her waist and arm once again with its snout.

At long last her hand reached up to grasp a handful of the horse hair that felt like straw when her fingers coiled around it. With all her strength she hauled her body onto the horses back, sinking into its torso once the horse stood up and began moving. The creature had no saddle, no reins or rope. Perhaps it was wild. It was nice to think that this beautiful creature could be so free.

The restless nord girl hardly looked up from the horses back, struggling to keep her eyes open as the horse slowly teetered down the path. The night had swallowed up any natural light that would help the red-haired girl see, and the daunting black air shrouded everything it touched. When she did look up, shivers scuttled up her body and the hairs on her arms and neck became erect. Everything was so damn dark! She couldn't see a thing. She cast her eyes over the horse, and hoped that at least it could see where it was it was going. But why did she care? She had nowhere to go to. No one to go to. She was lost, and she was alone. The horse shook its body softly, and snorted through its nose. Well, not entirely alone.

The golden lights that glimmered through the square shaped windows of the Inn that the nord's new friend had took her to, was more than inviting. The honeyed scent of fresh mead could be detected from outside, even if the doors and windows were closed shut. The gentle hymn of a soothing flute echoed off the walls. It looked wonderful. But why wasn't she impressed? She glared at the building with a vague emptiness to her eyes. They were glassy, and swelling with tears. She didn't want to go in, but the growling roars of her stomach was making it an urgent appeal. The gentle horse swayed its head and kicked its feet into the ground, moving closer to the Inn and nudging the nord to get off its back.

She couldn't help the minor grin that broke in her lips. "Alright," she croaked, patting the horse's neck with the palm of her hand. The horse fell to its knees so that it was easier for her to slide off, and she did, dusting off the speckles of mud off her saturated clothes and folding her arms to her chest as she stumbled to the door.

The inn was pretty much empty. The argonian maid smacking a broom on the carpet in the centre of the hall glared at her, almost hissing as her piercing yellow eyes glued to her. The bard, dressed in an attire with a golden tint to it, tugged his flute from his lips and stopped to gape. The women at the bar, with her locks of brown hair – soon turning white – ceased scrubbing glasses and locked her pale eyes on the girls face. The one that caught her eye, as she stumbled in the door, plastered in rainwater with a tangled mess of red hair sticking to her skin, was the figure sitting in the corner, twisting a septum in his fingers, with a darkness shrouding his face and body. She couldn't tell if he was looking at her, or not.

A gust of breath slipped from her lips, as a dreaded lump slowly made its way up her throat. She coughed, brushing her arms with the tips of her fingertips and scanning around her like a timid child. The bard lifted his flute to his lips and merrily began playing again, still glancing at the red-haired nord with the corner of his eye. The maid when back to sweeping the floor, snapping her head away from the glance of the nord girl, and the women at the bar gave a warm smile and began to move towards her. "Come on in child," she urged graciously with the wave of her hand, "did you get caught in the rain? By the eight, you're positively drenched, come in, come in, have some hot food and a glass of juniper wine. It's delicious. Perfect for warming the soul. There's nothing like a glass of wine, or mead, and some good music by the fire. Now, what can I get you?"

The women took the girl by the shoulder and guided her inside, directing her to a chair beside the fire. The girl glanced over her shoulder and shot another glimpse at the figure in the corner. Was he looking at her? Still he twisted that septum in his fingertips.

"Hello, mam?"

The girl snapped her head up, her eyes flooded with confusion.

"What can I get you?" the women softly asked with a smile, arching her back slightly so she was more at her level.

"I…" the girl stuttered, clearing her throat with a sharp muffled cough, "I have no money."

"None? My dear… oh, but I can't possible leave you without nothing. I'll get you something on the house. Food and drink. I'll be right back dear."

The nord smiled, hugging her body with her arms as she sat awkwardly in her chair. She could feel his eyes on her. Burning into her skull. Searching for her soul so that he could wrench it out and unearth all of her secrets. She couldn't dare look upon him for the third time, could she? Yet subconsciously, she peered over her shoulder again, glaring at the figure who appeared to glare right back her. She shuddered at the shivers that flushed up her spine. Who was he? Not even his face could be made out…

"Excuse me? Hello?"

Jumping out of her skin, the nord girl snapped her body back and peered up at the women who was clutching onto a plate of food and a glass of red wine that smelt sweet, like the perfume of fresh fruit and flowers.

"Good heavens," she chuckled, handing her the plate of food and glass, "are you lost in another world there dear?"

"Who is that man?" she whispered, fearful that he might be listening.

"The one in the corner? I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that one dear. He came in no long before you. Didn't say a word. I brought him some wine but he hasn't touched it, so I've just left him. He's seems like a mysterious character doesn't he?"

"Indeed."

"Didn't even get a look of his face – covered by that black hooded he was wearing. Never seen anyone like him, his manner is curious. There wasn't a soul in here, and I was about to close up when he stormed in, with the blustering wind behind him, dragging an awful chill with him that made your teeth chatter. I went to speak but he silenced me with a toss of a few septums. He's been sitting in that corner ever since."

The nord girl couldn't help but let her eyes wander over to him for another time, his presence was mysterious, chilling, and unsettling. She concentrated on her breath, uneasy about the set of eyes that were searing into her skull.

"Oh look at me rambling," the women gasped with a chuckle, flattening her clothes, and waving her hand "Enjoy your food and drink mam. Holler if you need anything."

"Thank you."

The woman left with a smile, retreating back to the bar, to whip out a cloth and start scrubbing. The girl placed the plate on her lap, slowly biting the harsh piece of meat and gnawing on the overcooked vegetables. She coughed and quickly grasped the wine and took a sip. A twinge of repulsion came over her face. She was never too keen on alcohol to begin with, but the taste of this made her tongue curl. She settled for the bread, placing the plate on the floor beside her feet and chewing on a loaf, nibbling the corners slowly – not really in the mood to eat much.

"Mikheal." The women beckoned from the bar, twisting a white rag in a mug, "you can go, it's getting late."

"Thanks mam."

The bard placed down his flute and skipped over to the bar, snatching a bottle of mead and a loaf of bread from the counter that had been left out for him. He muttered something to the women and she laughed, shaking her head and grabbing her own waist with one hand as she wiped the counter once again with the cloth.

The abrupt bang of a door made everyone in the inn jolt. Everyone except the figure that sat secluded at the back. The door swung ajar and the moaning of the breeze hissed through the doorway, sending in gusts of ice air that gave you Goosebumps. Two slender figures dressed in black stood in the doorway, black hoods covering their faces, with their hands hidden behind their backs. The heavy blasts of wind, and the biting air didn't bother them. They didn't even flinch to the cold.

"I'm sorry, but were closing." The woman at the bar exclaimed, an apprehensive unsteadiness to her crackled voice, "and we have no more rooms."

"Oh we don't want a room," one figure hissed, with a chilling chuckle hurdled at the end of his words. The nature of which he spoke was quite high-class, each word, each letter was like hymn, and had to be pronounced perfectly. Who was he trying to impress? What did he want?

"Well…" the women started, anyone could sense the restlessness that was bubbling inside of her - the disquiet hanging of her tongue and making her stutter, snatching the words away from her tongue before they could leave her lips. She lifted her head, and began to amble around the bar, "we're not serving food either. So, you should be on your way."

"Without collecting what we came for?" the figure teased. Laughing again and stepping inside, swaying on his heels with an un-nerving predatory manner to each flick of his boot. His comrade followed, bowing his head so his face could not be caught in the light.

Before the woman could project another word, not even a minor whisper, he was at her, traveling faster light. The woman shrieked as the man who address her slammed her body into the counter, wrapping his fingers around her neck and perching over her body as she wept and squealed for mercy. The other figure flew towards the argonian maid, who didn't have a chance to squawk before he silenced her. He snapped her neck as easily as a twig, and rushed towards the bard, lifting him in the air by the scruff of his neck and hissing like a snake as he toyed with him.

The red-haired nord flung up from her seat, rushing to the door, panting and gasping for breath, unable to inhale enough breath to fill her lungs as panic consumed her.

"Where are you going?" the monster holding the whimpering woman growled. When she glimpsed at his face terror infested her. His pale skin, an almost grey – the same colour you would find on a corpse. The daunting razor teeth that poked out like knifes as his lip curled into a snarl. Worst of all – the eyes! Burning like a roaring flame, that was as red as blood. Those very eyes would make any man tremble. Cause any mother to faint from despair when their natural, flourishing eyes rested on those callous terrifying, burning orbs for too long.

"I'll collect her." A voice chuckled. It was the very figure that had been watching her. The dark shadow that tried to look into her soul, with the eyes that burned into her flesh as she sat in that chair only a few seconds ago.

She knew that these horrific creatures had crawled from the fiery depths of oblivion. Scratching out the earth and tainting anything good and pure. She could not let them catch her. What would become of her if they did? It would not be Sonvgard that awaits. Death will be no privilege they will grant. They are the very daemons that taint your soul, and trap you in the darkness. She could not, she would not allow that to happen to her. After all she been through, all she had seen on this land, she knew she deserved more than that.

So she ran, swiftly swivelling her body around and rushing out that door. She wished she had some weapon, anything, and something to defend herself with. Even something to help the two poor victims inside. A wave of guilt passed over her, swooping over her mind like a dark cloud. Was she doing the wrong thing? Should she have tried to help? But how could she? With no weapon, and being too weak to fight anyway, it would have been futile.

The thunderous whines of a horse and the clatter of hooves, brought a sigh of relief to burst from her lips. At least now she might have a chance. The beautiful creature galloped over to her, distress flooding in its glimmering bright eyes. Clasping onto a handful of its mane, she quickly leapt onto its back, wondering where she got the strength to jump up so quickly.

"Come back here red!"

There was no need to tap the creature's belly, as it hurtled of almost instantaneously. The wind that blown in her face made her red hair spiral of in all mad directions, making her copper hair look like a wild flickering flame. The pace at which her heart was thumping against her chest made her feel sick; she was certain that it would burst of from her ribcage, if not that, she would fall into a state of unconsciousness and collapse from the charging horse.

That didn't happen at all. Instead, the red-haired girl was flung into the air, hurdling off the horse as it jerked to its two hind legs, and crashing down onto the ground with a heavy thud that triggered a stifled grunt to leave her lips. Automatically her hand rushed to her neck, grasping onto her amulet that she held so dear to her heart. Thank the divines. She still had the amulet.

The screams of the horse made a wail of horror erupt from her lips. She looked up to see the horse on its hind legs, kicking and whining with a red glow leaving its body. It when was she saw two figures in front of the creature, with a pale wave of red spurting from their palms onto the horse, did she become more fearful.

"No!" the girl wailed, trying to stumble to her feet, but a pair of ice cold hands, rigid and calloused, prevented her from moving, locking her in a stone-like embrace and keeping her pinned. One final squeal exploded from her lips before she collapsed to the floor, her head ringing and pounding from the impact of something smashing across her skull. Everything around her dissolved into a black fog, until there was nothing left for her to see.

(xxxxx)

Her head was still pounding when her eyes fluttered open. Her own breath echoed loudly in her ears, deep and slow. She gritted her teeth, from the sudden stabbing pain that lanced at the back of her skull. How hard was she hit? How long was she out for? A wave of shivers masked the nord's body. It was a too familiar custom for Skyrim to endure the cold. The winters hit the land with a harsh blow, delivering a clump of snowstorms and penetrating showers of rain, or the strong ghastly gusts of heavy wind with each occurring day. It was never unusual to find yourself lost in a blanket of teeth-chattering snow up to your knees, or become stuck in a waterfall of ice rain that rolled down your cheeks and drenched your clothing. Though the nights were the worst. Too long in this cold, and you would soon find your limbs falling numb and your skin turning blue.

The whimpering muffled sobs of shivering hostages tremored through the cold ebony night air and moaned like sad hymns of plea through the faint grey mist that hung above the damp grass and the dank earth. Quaking nords knelt to the floor and hung their heads to their chests as swift silhouettes encircled them like sharks. Some were blubbering a load of nonsense, or praying to the divines to liberate them from whatever terror they had been ensnared into. Though some didn't make a peep. Standing like blank statues as they glared into the blackened air with a horrid emptiness in their drooping eyes. It was if something had been switched of inside their heads. As if their very soul had been viciously ripped from their limp bodies, leaving them motionless and detached, like robots that were neither dead nor living. They didn't twitch a limb, or bat an eyelid whenever the dark, unnerving figures swiftly flew past them, like ghosts of the night.

The young nord girl on the end of the row of prisoners, refused to make a peep. She would not let a single whimper or squeal or squeak slip from her trembling lips which she desperately tried to keep sealed. Her body juddered, rattling like a doll as she bowed her head to the floor, casting her almond-shaped eyes on the prisoners beside her who sobbed or remained still. Her eyes focused on one of the few that didn't move or squawk. No light was in the hollow eyes. It was dull, like a grey old sheet of withered paper from an untouched old book that reeked of mould and dust. It was if their soul, the light inside of their hearts, had freed itself from the torments of its body, and instead retreated to Sovngarde. The young nord girl suddenly felt less pity for them, and instead a more sorrowful sympathy went out to the blubbering nords, with tears dripping from their glassy eyes and with amulets of faith dangling from their fingertips. Her assurance was not in amulets of various faiths, divines, or gods, as ever you wish to name them. She instead coiled her fingertips around an amulet with a more personal value. It was not an amulet of Talos, or Akatosh or Arkay, or any other amulet of the divines, it was simply her amulet. The glimmering sapphire stone, with its precise silver border, suspended from a strong embodied leather strap, was the amulet that she held close to her heart. She clutched the stone in her fingertips, and sealed her eyes shut - only now realising that they were wet from tears. It was possible that she was the youngest nord of the bunch, though that would only be down to her looks. Her radiant skin matched the cream soft shine of the moon, and her vibrant copper hair that spiralled in thick loose waves to her shoulders, was like the gentle glow of a flickering flame of a campfire. Her bright eyes were soft and captivating – one eye being a beautiful ocean blue, with the other a vivid emerald green. Her whole complexion was one of a porcelain doll. There was no doubt about it, she was exquisite.

The prisoners hadn't been kneeling for too long, but already the cold and caused their legs to become numb, and they stumbled to their feet, when viciously instructed to do so, like toddlers learning how to walk. They expected that they were by a dock, or a small boat as they had been listening to the crying of the sea for what seemed like forever. At last the prisoners were piled onto the boat, packed close together, shoulder to shoulder, with the rough wood of the boat scratching the feet of those who had lost their shoes when abducted from their homes, streets or inns. There were seven in total, though three of them didn't even appear to be alive, and the last squeals they made was when the black cotton bag went over their heads.

(xxxx)

There was something about the air that made the blind staggering hostages shiver and whine, it suffocated them, chocking them as if a set of cold hands had swathed around their necks and twisted their flesh until they wheezed or squawked. The sound of the hostages' own breath was making them uneasy. It was all they could hear, and all they could see was the knitted black bag over their heads. Why was this happening?

"Well take the bloody bags of their heads," snapped one of them, a startling hostility bouncing in her growl like voice. "They're here now, aren't they?"

"What has got you so annoyed? Hmm?" another voice teased, a calming pompous voice that was still as startling as the other.

"Because I'm starving that's why! Now hurry up and get the cattle down there before I spill their blood all over this floor!"

"Temper, temper." The high-class pretentious voice sneered, clicking his tongue as he ripped the bags off of the alarmed nords' heads. They gasped and panted, weeping and begging. The red-haired nord girl was last to be free from the mask of darkness. Unlike the others she did not wail, or beg or sob. She bit onto her tongue and remained silent and she reluctantly followed the crowd that were being led deeper into the dark depths of the castle.

Dim candles were spotted around the border of the corridor, with grey stone statues beside the grand doors behind her. They were guided towards the spiralling steps that led down into a great hall, were two long wooden dining tables were placed, with gothic chairs surrounding them. At the back of the hall, mounted on a stone stage, was another table, with a throne in the centre, tall and pointed with a red drape cast over the rich oak surface. Two chairs were positioned either side of it. As the girl cast eyes over the tables she was polluted with horror. Moaning in agony, twitching in pain as fiendish creatures buried their heads into them, were nords. They were lashed in the centre of the table, dripping with warm blood, plastered in blood-stained rags as the malicious monsters sank their teeth into their veins - drinking their life fluids until they drew their last breath.

It suddenly came to her, like a shock of electricity. Why hadn't she seen it before? She was blind. Her eyes had opened for the first time and now she knew the horrifying unimaginable truth. Vampires! This was a castle for vampires! By the eight, which meant…

A sharp shriek erupted from the girl as a set of calloused frozen hands snatched a clump of her copper hair and bent her neck to his waist. He looked as if he was nord once, but now he was the living dead. His ginger hair and beard where long, with his glowing red eyes matching the colour of the blood that was splashed on the floor. He dressed in a red gothic gown-like armour that seemed to be the attire that most vampires in the hall were wearing. The vampire curled his lip, purposely showing his pointed fangs as he hissed "this one smells heavenly! This one is mine! I demand the first taste!"

The girl toppled to the floor, landing on her hands and knees as another vampire flung him off of her. This vampire had been once a dunmer, perhaps a high elf. Now as a vampire, his skin was pale and grey, with his hair as white as snow. His cheek bones were high and defined, and his frame was thin and bony. He growled, a cat like hiss, with his teeth dripping with poison, as he barked "how dare you have the audacity to say things such as that! You do not have the power to declare such demands!"

"Are you threatening me Vingalmo? My instincts tell me to never trust an elf!"

"Your instincts are that of a dog, Orthjolf. Now stand aside before things turn ugly."

"Perhaps if you move out my way, elf, I won't tear your arms of!"

Just as they were about to leap for one another, a thunderous voice trembled through the hall. "Enough!" this voice barked. It was a calm voice, but even more chilling. The red-haired girl craned her neck and scanned around her. A man stood on the upper floor, mounted on the balcony, gazing down to the glimpse at the hall. All the vampires ceased their chatter and turned to look upon him, bowing their heads, and one or two even kneeling when spotting him there. The girl looked ahead, but couldn't see the man who spoke. A weird wave came over her, were curiosity plucked at her brain and made her squirm, ceasing her breath. She wanted to know who this phantom was. Know his name. Perhaps see his face. For a second any troubles or distress that clouded her mind vanished, and instead focused on the delicious mystery man that everyone grew silent to.

She didn't even acknowledge that she was holding her breath when the phantom spoke again, his words like melted gold, with the rich gilded accent of each word triggering shivers to scuttle up her skin. "I will not have any pure-blood members of my court, to fall to the filthy ways of the feral animals that dare share our name. If you wish to join the pitiful night-walkers of Skyrim, then you have my vouch to leave and join them, in a cave. I expect more from advisors, much more. Do not let your hunger and thirst take its toll on you. If you wish to stay here I advise you to rid yourself of your insolences and become more decent. Am I clear?"

"Of course my lord," replied the elf, Vingalmo, with a bow, "It shall not happen again."

Just like that he vanished from the balcony, and the clatter of conversations began to rumble in the hall. The nord stayed on the floor, with her locks of tangled copper hair cascading down the border of her face. She ran her tongue across her dessert dry lips and clenched her teeth together. In the trauma of being tossed away, the vampire seemed to drop his dagger. He was still glaring viciously at the elf with piercing eyes, and didn't seem to notice it slipped out from his sheath. Isn't a vampires senses exemplified? Gnawing onto her inner cheek, she slyly reached out her arm and swiftly snatched the dagger from the floor, quickly hiding the blade in her clothes, carefully slipping it down her torso so that she didn't have to hide it in her arms.

The elf marched over to the girl, snatching her by the shoulder and roughly yanking her to her feet. She grunted from the force of his hand around her arm. "I'll ensure that you don't get a sip of her blood," he hissed, with a taunting sneer, "perhaps if you control your thirst. You may find out was she tastes like. But… I doubt that will happen, do you?"

"One of these days I'm going rip off your legs elf!" the riled vampire yapped before storming into an inner room. The girl gritted her teeth when he chuckled and tossed her back into the line. How dare he speak of her like that! Treating her as if she was a piece of meat! She could feel her blood boiling in her veins, and feel the heat radiating from her rosy cheeks. She wondered if the vampires could sense it, as they all began to gape at her with a startling hunger growing in their deepening dark red eyes.


	2. Blind Cattle

She could sense it. An infestation strewing across her body, tingling her limbs and striking at her joints, as she, and the frightened crowd, were snappishly steered into an inner room, soon to be funnelled downstairs. She wondered if it was fear that she could feel spreading across her body, like a sickly disease, but a spark of irritation and wrath was still wedged in her mind. The heat radiating from her body had not ceased, and still her jaw clenched together, so that she gritted and grinded her teeth, glaring at the floor with petulant narrowing eyes. She didn't like this. Not one bit. She did not like this part of the castle. It was awful! The walls were clammy and dripping with an ice fluid that would make you cringe and shiver, if you was to misfortunately whack your body into it, and that smell! The red-haired nord shuddered – the fine hairs on her arms suddenly standing straight and stern – and she snapped her head to the side, scrunching up her nose as she gaged. A thick repulsive musky aroma, that carried a similar smell to the nauseating green slime you find on rocks and dank withered tree bark, lingered by her nostrils as she was forced deeper into the foul depths of the castle. The smell sickened her. She didn't know why it bothered her so much, perhaps it was the staleness of it. It's a smell that can make you feel trapped; keep you enclosed; blocking out all your other senses – everything she despised and loathed. As she travelled deeper the smell seemed to worsen, but only due to a different additional stifling scent that unpleasantly merged with the other horrid smell that she couldn't stand. She knew that smell, and retched when her nose detected it. Shivers scuttled up her spine as her stomach flipped, with bile almost rushing up her throat. It was an intoxicating sickly smell that was heavy and intense. Each inhale triggered a ghastly whiff of the stench to flush up her nostrils, making it tempting for the nord girl to snatch one of the black bags from the fiendish vampire swine and tug it over her head, just to rid herself from the smell that plagued her nose. The smell of blood.

The whimpering moans and stifled cries from the abducted "cattle", as one vampire had labelled them, quivered through the air, moaning like the hissing of a wave, or the blustering groans of the wind. Eyes widened, and jaws dropped, as they fretfully scanned around them. Splashes of blood had coated the dark damp stone walls, with pieces of bones scattered on the floor. Eruptions of terrified shrieks crackled through the dank air after one or two nords crashed their feet onto a human skull, or a leg bone that crumbled into power. Bodies became stiff and began to shudder as the ecstatic nords were roughly shoved into cages. Women and men were separated, each brusquely lobbed into a pen like cage. Any who refused, were beaten into submission.

The red-haired girl watched with terror, shuddering, glancing away as the feral blood-sucking leeches hammered one blubbering nord again, again and again with their cat-like fists, for trying to run the other way. The explosion of his cries were horrific – almost too much to bear. She could feel the prick of tears stabbing at her pupils as she was lobbed into a cage, where two other women stood crying and shaking. Another two sat motionless in black, hugging their knees to their chest, covered in blood stained rags with several bite wounds speckled across their flesh. They had no light in their eyes, as if any hope or fight within them had been sucked out of them. They looked close to death.

Still the dreadful ring of wails echoed through the cage bars. The malice creatures were still at him! The girl rushed over to the bars, clutching onto them tightly, whipping her copper hair from her shoulders and pressing her face against the toothed steel that was colder than Skyrim's ice air. A pool of blood had begun to flow from his body, seeping into the cracks in the stone floor, as his squeals worsened. Monsters! They didn't have to this! Why were they doing this?

"Stop!" the girl shrieked, unwilling to prevent the screams that erupted from her lips, "stop! Stop! You're killing him! Stop this! Stop it! Stop it you spineless bastards!"

The two vampires craned their necks, looking up at the girl with their pale lips viciously curling up into a sinful sneer that was soon followed by a hissing chuckle, causing the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She exhaled through her nose, clenching her teeth together as one vampire chuckled again, walking over to the bars were she was standing, slowly shoving his bloody thumb into his mouth, mockingly licking the blood from his fingertips and knuckles.

She ignored the shivers that were trying to grasp her attention. Tried her best to overlook the drastic pulsation of her heart. More importantly, she kept her eyes locked securely on his, refusing to even move as his face came closer to the bars. Everyone grew silent, as if it was only her and the vicious leech standing in that dark dungeon, the nord and many others had been tossed in – and not even the whispers of breath could be heard.

The vampire was heavily built, with thick robust arms and a wide chest. His wide square shaped jaw was neatly shaven, his eyebrows thick and stern. His eyes were like the rest of blood-suckers - shallow, dark, and cold, yet the colour burned like a flame, with an un-nerving bright yellow glow around the black pupil – it was unsettling to look upon. His hair was a dark brunette, and grew long and straight, falling to his shoulders, and flowing down the acutely shaped borders of his face, like a cascading curtain. He was a nord once, like the girl that stood opposite him, but he had a sinister look to him. His presence and his nature, was disquieting - a personality that you ought to be wary of. One feature that caught the girl's eye, was the long pink, vertical scar carved into his pale cheek. She pondered with the thought of how the vampire managed to obtain such a thing.

"Was you speaking to me red?" he goaded with a sinister grin.

The girl furrowed her eyebrow at his words. Red? How dare he! Again she felt the sickly sweet sensation of ire simmer her blood. She smiled back, replying to his tease with a tease, "Well initially I was. But then I thought… what good will it do, to converse with a leech?"

"A leech?" he chuckled, resting one calloused hand on the bars above his head, his fingers nearly knocking against her red hair, "you know its unwise to provoke a vampire, red, you'll be dead in seconds."

"I do not fear death. And I do not fear you. Leech!"

A playful sneer stretched across his lips, and the girl caught sight of the vampire's pointed teeth. She couldn't help but shudder. It was wrong, unnatural; immoral… to possess such a thing! He exhaled loudly, raising his severely shaped eyebrows and slipping his hand through the bars to grasp a clump of her hair. A soft grunt burst from her lips as he jerked her head upwards. She winced, gritting her teeth, but still glaring into his eyes as he tugged on the strands of her copper hair. "Such things," he sighed, sardonically stretching out his words with a callous grin, "were not said tonight, at the inn."

"The inn?"

"Oh, shame, shame, tut tut, my dear, do you not remember me? Why, you couldn't keep your pretty little eyes off me last time we met. It's such a shame, isn't it? Such a pitiful shame that I had to bring you here, otherwise we could have got to know each other a lot better."

"Why would I ever want to do that?"

"Like I said, you were pretty much begging for it at the inn. Your unique bright eyes were casting over me every second. Why, it was cruel of me, to ignore such a desperate request."

"Go back to Oblivion scum!"

"Are you really going to continue to antagonise me, red?"

"Perhaps if you stop calling me red, I will go lighter on my aggravations. Leech!"

"You better stop calling me that red, or things will turn ugly. I'll paint the walls with your sweet smelling blood."

"You don't scare me. You're a blood-sucker, and most blood-suckers are old, and who's afraid of an old man? Old Leech!"

The chiming ring of the rusty steel door caught everyone's attention. The red-haired nord backed away from the cage door, where the sadistic vampire stood. She drew her hands into fists, but she was unable to stop her arm from trembling. That annoyed her. She didn't want to appear afraid, and she wasn't afraid! Why would she be frightened of a leech?

"What are you doing?" the vampire from behind asked fretfully, stepping towards him. He had the appearance of an elf – long pointed ears, a small and thin frame, with ash blond brittle hair.

The vampire from before raised his arm behind him, not taking his glance away from the girl who still glared back into his cold eyes. "Getting a drink," he hissed, curling his finger and waving it at her. "Come on out red."

She hesitated for a short second, but with a puff of breath, exited the cage. One or two gasps of breath fell from the mouths of watching prisoners as she freed herself from the ensnaring bars with assertion and strict confidence. She tried her best not to get too close to him as she shuffled out of the cage door. To her surprise he didn't try to seize her, in which she then stood opposite him, still studying the depths of his burning eyes.

"I see that your obedient." He chuckled, slamming the cage door shut, "good. It will make you a submissive and decent pet."

"A pet I am not. Obedient I never will be!" she yapped back.

"We'll see about that."

A startling hiss broke from him as he curled his lip and exposed his fangs, so that they sparked like white lights in the dark. Now! The nord girl quickly spiralled her body around, and the vampire snarled, rushing towards her at a frightening speed. His hiss crackled through the air, and made observing captives quiver and squeal. Though the next squeal was louder still. Brash and thunderous as it echoed through the halls of the castle, bouncing off walls and jerking the floorboards and stone. The splashes of blood echoed onto the chilled stone floor with a shrill chime. The blood was dark, almost black - unlike the stains of bright red fluid on the stone walls she had seen earlier.

It almost looked like a soaring flickering flame as the nord girl swiftly rushed up the stairs, panting and wheezing, sick with fear as her feet quickly scampered up the hard stone steps. An air-splitting roar trailed her footsteps, and was the cause for the warm clammy fluid that began to fall from her brow. Her heart raced in her ribcage faster than it had ever done before, and she was fretful that the whole castle would hear its brisk rhythm. It was in her throat. She could feel the thumping of her heart, knocking against her throat as she continued to run. She didn't even acknowledge the roars and shouts that were thrown at her as she hurried away. Her vision was hazy, like the fog of grey smoke. She couldn't even see where she was running to. She didn't even see the swarm of vampires that charged towards her when she scuttled into the main hall.

"Get her!" one voice screeched.

"She's escaped!" another bellowed.

She suddenly became aware of what she had ran into, stopping for a short second beside the spiralling stairs in the grand hall, to peer behind her shoulder. Her eyes widened at the sight of several ravenous vampires swiftly soaring her way. This was worse than she initially thought. Was this it for her now? Was this the end? The last thing she would see would be the dark eyes of the feral beasts, as they ripped her apart. It was hopeless, and it was a stupid plan – if you could even call it a plan. No it was hardly planned. It was improvised. Flung to her in the heat of the moment. She was only focusing on the aim, not how she would carry it out. How could she be this reckless?

A spark of glimmering silver caught her eye, as she glared at the ravenous stampede that hurdled towards her. It was there, stuffed into a stone vase of some sort, glimmering in the white light, and calling out to her. It was her hope; her only chance of getting out of here alive. She knew what had to be done, what only could be done – it was clear to her now. The grey fog that had clouded her vision and clogged her panicked mind melted away. She had to act now!

Clenching her teeth together, and shaking her head up and down to rouse herself from her flustered trance, she quickly vaulted her body towards the vase, reaching out her hand to snatch the shining steel sword that was stuffed inside. A low grunt left her lips as she yanked the steel out. It almost hissed as it scratched away from the stone, and purred as it whipped through the air. The blade seemed to sing as it slashed her opponents. She swung her body around, swaying the sword in her arms and swiping it across one vampire's chest, so that a pool of dark blood spurted out onto the floor, cascading down the vampire's body like a gushing waterfall. Nonetheless, she was only one person. How was she going to fight all of these vampires? The thought crossed her mind for a moment - the contemplation of her possible death. Though she could think nothing of it, too engrossed in the thirst of battle. If she was to die, she would die gladly, happily sending as many blood-sucking leeches as she could, back to the dark, cruel depths of Oblivion. The divines would be smiling down at her efforts. She would not submit to these parasites!

A stifled groan of pain and indignation broke from the girl's lips. Her body rocketed and thrashed in the air, as two vampires snatched her arms, squeezing her flesh so tightly that they nearly cut off the circulation in her veins. She cast her eyes over three limp bodies lashed on the floor, crumpled into a pile of decaying mess. Her lip curled into a victorious grin. She had managed to take down not one, not two, but three vampires! Three leeches! What happened to vampires possessing an otherworldly super-strength, which could crush bones into powder, or turn flesh into a puddle of mush? This nord couldn't do any of those things, and still she had trampled three of them into submission… wait, no… death…

Yet, even after accepting that her journey to Sovngarde would draw closer than she had initially hoped, before becoming ensnared in the horrid depths of this ghastly castle, her thirst for existence grasped onto life, in a locked embraced that would refuse to let go. She would not curb her will to fight, or her will to survive. She growled through her gritted teeth, gruffly squirming her body in the callous grasp of the horrid vampires that had hold of her, snickering and hissing – pitching her vicious words sparked from abhorrence or aversion, dripping with a cruel poison in a hostile fretful tone. Yet their words only fed her animosity towards them. The boiling of her hot blood was triggering a nauseating feeling to tremor through her body. She really despised the blood-sucking swine! Even feeling the cold sensation of their lifeless touch gave her ghastly shivers. She hated to have them so near!

"Get off me!" she grunted, swinging back her head, thrashing her body and kicking her legs in the air like a disobedient child. Damn it! Why did they have to be so strong? It wasn't fair!

"Hold her still!" an enraged hissing voice barked, ferocity and venom shaking in his stifled voice. An infuriated vampire hobbled over to her, thick dark blood dripping from his gut. His lip curled into a snarl as he marched over to the girl, hissing like a snake, and flinging his calloused hand towards the girl's neck. "This bitch," the vampire savagely hissed, throttling her head in his grasp, "stuck me like a pig! She thought it was clever to sneak in a dagger, infected with a minor poison which has now weakened me! Then she thought she was cunning enough to slip away. How wrong was you red?"

The nord girl chocked as the vampire's fingers buried into her flesh, crushing her windpipe and blocking out her air. His face was more sinfully sadistic than ever, plagued with a terrifying anger. It was the vampire before. The vampire who she toyed with. The monster who she ran away from. Her eyes wandered to his face, a cold face shrivelled with irritation and ire, and then they met with his eyes - his dark, squinting sinister eyes. They pierced into her flesh as he opened his lips to hiss at her, "You die now mortal!" His voice was shaking with animosity and wrath as he stretched his head towards her exposed neck, where her blood flushed furiously in her red hot veins.

"Stop." one calm, influential, deepened voice shook in the air. The irked vampire scowled at the girl for a moment, squeezing her flesh with his fingers before ripping his claws away from her, muttering soundlessly under his breath as he stepped away. A quiet dry cough spurted from her lips, jumping in her throat as she bit her lips together in an attempt to cease the wheezing.

Every vampire ceased what they were doing, snapping their necks to the side to glare up at the balcony, where a dark authoritative figure stood, motionless and almost illusory. It was if it was phantom standing up there. Not a man, nor creature, but a mysterious shadow, a shadow that stole your breath when wondering eyes cast over it. Even the flustered nord girl, who had been seized by the cold clutches of livid vampires, became still. Her breath was louder than most, spitting out from her lips in short sharp gasps, with her chest rising and falling heavily. She shook her limps in aggravation, but still the fiends had hold of her arms and legs, elevating her petite body in the air. More hypnotic words glided from the unseen lips of the delectably mysterious phantom who still remained in the shadows, mounted above everyone in the hall, on that untouchable balcony, triggering an odd, unearthly sensation to come over the listening nord girl. Her body became still, her lips drew shut; her breath calmed and quietened.

"I want the girl alive," the phantom calmly stated. Yet, a chilling hiss was chucked at the end of his command, making the air uneasy and stifling. The girl? He didn't he mean the red-haired nord girl ensnared in the tight frozen grapples of the enraged vampires, who sought to paint the hall with her piping blood? Of course he didn't mean the girl who had just butchered not one, nor two but three vampires? "And," the mystery man started, a more severe growl to his tone of voice, "unspoiled."

"But my lord," one vampire protested. It was the one who clasped roughly onto the girl's arm, digging his bony fingers into her flesh and probably turning her skin purple from the heavy pressure of his touch. He was of the Dunmer race, an ancient lanky elf, with dark grey skin, thick brittle ginger hair snatched in a high pony on the top of his skull, with a neatly trimmed ginger beard around his mouth, and glowing piercing eyes that glared up to the balcony. His attire was a dull grey, blending with the drab shade of his lifeless skin. He continued, "She killed one of…"

"Silence! I can see what the mortal has done."

"So therefore my lord you can…"

"I hope you are not challenging me Garan Marethi, it is a pitiful, injudicious, reckless move to make. One that can make your life hang on the balance of fate."

"No, no my lord, I would never challenge you. I was simply pointing out…"

"Why do you persist on quarrelling with me? Is my word not the law in this court? I encourage you to seal your trap Garan Marethi and simply obey by my commands. Bring the girl to my chambers. Immediately."

"And if she resists my lord?"

"Consume approaches which ensures that she cannot…resist."

Bring the girl to his chambers? Bring her…to him! Rage boiled in her sizzling skin, but another emotion dwelt within her also. Crawling inside of her, spreading its deadly infectious disease across every inch of her. Fear. She shuddered to the thought of feeling such a toxic douse of it. She had lived her life fighting against fear. Learning to battle with the torments it can inflict. There was one point in her life where fear devoured her, scratching out the passion in her eyes and ripping away her spirit. Her life was sickly, and suffocating when it invaded her mind, and ever since she first laid eyes on one of these foul creatures, fear begin to sprout inside of her - feeding of her sanity and fight, gradually becoming stronger. Soon it would be bubbling chaotically inside of her, polluting her limbs, her speech and her mind with its poison. She could not let it happen! She could not let fear consume her! If it did. It would be the death of her.

The hushed vampires began to move again, moving their pale lips and oozing out their rattle of words. A hissing chuckle swept, like a gush of wind, through the vampires surrounding the ensnared girl, as they sneered and clicked their tongues, exchanging glances and corrupt smirks. They began to disperse away from her, scattering away from the bewildered nord like smoke in the night air, except the four that had hold of her limbs. The two vampires seizing her legs hissed and chuckled, tossing her backwards and walking off with the flick of their heel. The vampire from before, the vampire who she got away from - with the long brunette hair and the scar engraved in his cheek - snarled as he swept passed her, locking his cold eyes on her as he sank into the darkness.

The nord girl gritted her teeth, grunting as she thrashed her body, still pinned by the two vampires who had hold of her arms. Garan Marethi was it, clutching onto her right arm? Then on her left, a vampire woman with dull black hair, dressed in that same grey gothic attire. Her cheeks were awfully hollow and grey, with the cheekbones high and defined. Her darkened pursed lips were small and thin. Her nose short, curving at the tip like the nose of a bat. Had she been an imperial before the horrid transformation had plagued her?

She hissed as the red-haired nord girl squirmed and growled, "Just you wait mortal! We will get our vengeance on you!"

"Vengeance Salonia?" Garan Marethi teased from the other side, "There is no need to pursue that. This mortal is sure to suffer. Lord Harkon likes to play with his food."

Before anymore struggling could be made, the girl fell to the floor, crashing onto her stomach with a string of her warm red blood trickling from her forehead, dribbling onto the ice floor. The lancing sting at the back of her head triggered a black fog to sweep over her eyes. A long shrill buzz shuddered in her eardrums as her body sank into the floor. As much as she tried, she could not keep her eyelids open, and soon enough her state of consciousness slipped away. She felt like she was falling, collapsing into an eternal dark abyss, with a blanket of ebony shrouding her mind.


	3. Harkon

**Firstly, I just wanted to say a quick thank you for anyone who is reading this FanFic and supporting it so far by following the story, leaving reviews or even granting it a favourite. It's awesome! Anyway, I hope that you will continue reading and will enjoy this new chapter. Remember, reviews are highly appreciated. Thanks guys! Enjoy ~**

* * *

><p>It was the scream of scratching metal that awoke her, jolting the nord girl back into reality. Her eyes sprung open as quick as light, with the vivid bright colours of them glimmering when the orange glow of the room hit them. A horrid biting chill was nipping at her arms and legs, and sinking into her wrists as she moved her cold fingers. It took a while for her vision to adjust – still her sight was shrouded by that horrid grey mist, which prevented her from making out any objects and concealed any figures that may be lurking nearby. A small moan slipped from her lips, as her head continued to throb and tighten. That was probably the cause for her current loss of sight – that horrendous lancing pain at the back of her head, that is. So she absorbed her other senses.<p>

Her arm rubbed against a rough toothed surface that felt like rock, and the more she twitched the more it scoured her skin. The coarse surface triggered toe-curling shivers to consume her whenever any exposed skin came in contact with it. A wall? She guessed it was either brick or stone, but definitely a wall of some sort. Where in Oblivion was she?

The ice stone floor beneath her was uncomfortable to sit on, and made it difficult to cease any fidgeting. The girl gritted her teeth and hissed through the tiny gaps, squeezing her eyes shut and bowing her head to her chest as the endured the pain for another moment. A sweet honeyed fragrance simmered by her nostrils. She almost smiled, savouring that sweet, fresh perfume of roses and spice. It surprised her. She expected to be plagued by a ghastly stink that would swamped her senses – the repulsive stench of blood and damp that would make her retch, popped into her mind. For whatever reason, she was expecting to detect that sort of smell.

When she opened her eyes again, slowly so that her long eyelashes fluttered like the delicate flapping of a moth, she could at last see again. She yanked her arms, but frowned when they stuck to their pinned position beside the stone wall. The chiming of metal rang through her ears like a siren. Apprehension shakily building up inside of her, she timidly scanned her arms and wrists with her glassy eyes. A short gasp sprung from her tongue when she saw the heavy metal chains swathed around her limbs. She yanked at her limbs harder in her moment of panic, grunting and gasping as she rocketed her body that was lashed on the ice floor. The ringing metal continued to tremor in the air when she moved, sounding almost identical to the chiming and scratching of shackles that are normally bond to a prisoner, or criminal. Was she a prisoner now, was that it? Was she going to die? Crumble to ash, with her body pinned to the wall? Where was she? How could she get out of here?

It was then, when it all flushed back to her, swooping towards her like a towering, treacherous tidal wave that would knock you into the air when the ice impact crashed against you. She remembered the cold, the rain and the inn. She remembered the cries of nords, the splashes of dark blood on the dark stone walls and those eyes! Her body trembled when that startling image was planted in her mind. She could see the eyes in her head, dark and bitter they were – blood red with a piercing orange glow around the sharp ebony pupil. She remembered the halls and dark corridors, and the cages in the ice dungeon. She remembered the dagger that she used to pierce the skin of one walking corpse, and how she had to fight –victoriously slaying three callous blood-suckers in the process - and that voice! That rich gilded voice that echoed through the halls. The voice that everyone grew silent to; one of the last voices she heard before…

"Ah, so I see you are awake," a heavy, rich voice declared, each word gliding through the air like melted gold, "good. I was beginning to think that blow to the head, had forever silenced you."

The girl bit onto her tongue, as she glared emptily at the grey tiled floor, almost retching as her stomach flipped and turned. She felt as if something was callously crawling up her throat, ripping at her insides and making her body sweat. She had a nasty feeling on what it could be, and the thought of it irritated her. Angered her even. She didn't want to emit, or even endure fear. There was no good to come of it! As she sat, with her knees cradled to her chest, her breath snatched away from her lips. Everything around her became clear. It would poking out at her, screaming and growling. To her right, plastered in splashes of blood, seemed to be a sort of bench, something that victims would be lashed onto and strapped down as unspeakable things were performed. Blood was splattered all over the floor around her, splashes painted on the stone wall behind her, and to her left, mounted on a long table, were several torture devices – also tainted with a deep red liquid, with blood dripping onto the floor, creating a horrid red puddle beneath the table that made it difficult for the girl not to gag. In the corner of the great room, was a cage - cold and horrid - making a wave of restlessness come over the girl as her swelling eyes rested on it. A torture room! Is this what this was? Her head snapped to the bench beside her, where she wondered why she had been lashed on the floor, instead of there – she did, after all slay three vampires.

The girl's lip trembled with disquiet, with the sting of tears pricking at her eyes and tear droplets brimming her eyelashes. She shook her head quickly; one crystal droplet spat out from her eye and soared through the air. She chocked on air, almost certain that her thumping heart was creeping up her throat, preventing her from taking in proper breath. Still fretfully restless, the girl bit down onto her tongue, in an attempt to cease any screaming that was desperate to erupt from her lips, gnawing onto her flesh with such force, that a splash of warm blood exploded in her mouth.

"It is not very prudent to self-harm, in the presence of a vampire." The gilded voice warned, almost stifled as he spoke, "The honeyed perfume of your blood, flushing across your tongue, is making it extremely difficult, for me not to seize you from where you stand and drain you of every drop."

The girl craned her head to the side, unable to prevent the twisted snarl that shrivelled her face as her eyes met with the mystery vampire who spoke, for the first time. He was quite tall, with strong broad shoulders. The armour he wore was extravagant, and almost appeared to glimmer in the golden light, provided by the candles that were speckled around the room. It was steel, around his torso, chest and shoulders, and then an opulent black leather swathed around his hips and legs, and a rich red leather around his powerful, robust arms. His armour even appeared royal! Perhaps it was…

His piercing eyes rested on the nord girl confined to the floor. They were truly captivating, but awfully horrifying, with the unnerving blood red hollowness, and the hypnotic golden glow that snatched the girls breath away. His skin was as pale as paper; his cheeks hollow and defined. His thick, dark beard was neatly shaped around his mouth, with a shadow of stubble trailing up his jaw. She couldn't tell now, but she guessed that his lush dark chocolate hair was quite long, perhaps even growing to his back? He was definitely handsome. There was something captivating about him… no! There was nothing of him! He was nothing but a filthy blood-sucking leech! He was probably old too. Old and wicked!

The girl viciously brought her eyebrows together and jolted her body on the floor, almost kicking the boot of the vampire that stood beside her. She rattled her chains and shook her arms and legs, grunting and growling through her clenched teeth. The vampire smiled with pleasure from her outlandish attempts to liberate herself from the chains that ensnared her. It was futile of course. The chains were too tight, and she was too frail, too weak, too much of a mere mortal to free herself from them. Not to mention she also looked a little pale. Probably hadn't had anything proper down her in days. An expression of panic flushed across the girls face as her fingertips rushed to her neck. Guess she noticed that her amulet was missing…

At last the riled girl's lips parted, and words spurted out from them, leaving her tongue as an annoyed growl, "Where's my amulet! Let me go now and give me back my amulet you spineless leech! If you wish to kill me, at least fight me like a man! Parasite!"

The girl initially expected the vampire to lunge for her - rip out her throat, wrench out her ribcage or crush her skull into powder. The girl actually raised an eyebrow when a low chuckle floated from his lips, sending shivers up her spine.

"I see," he began, still chuckling slightly between his harmonic words "that this little dragon has fangs. Was that your attempt to get me to kill you little dragon? Or an attempt to shroud your terror? Do not think of me as a fool mortal, I can smell the sickly sweet aroma of fear steaming off of your puny little body. I can hear the frantic rhythm of your racing heart rattling in your ribcage. I feel your blood, flowing deep in your veins, rushing to your heart and flushing to your head. I see your eyes have widened. Fearful? Yes, yes you are. Your heart has already quickened. You poor little thing." "Tell me, what is your name?"

"You first!"

"Very Well. I am Harkon, lord of this court. I presume by now, you already know what we are; what I am especially?"

"There isn't much to it." The girl snorted, throwing her foot across the ground and twisting her wrists in the cold chains, "you're a pack of boneless blood-suckers who feed off frightened, weak, innocent people who you snatch away in the night! There's nothing gallant, or noble, or great about any of you! If there was, you wouldn't be hiding away, wherever in Oblivion this godforsaken place is! You're nothing powerful! Nothing more than a leech! A pack of old leeches who all deserve to burn! Now give me back my fucking amulet, now!"

She couldn't stop the sharp squeal that erupted from her lips when the vampire, Harkon, flung his arm to her head, seizing a fistful of her tangled copper hair, roughly tugging on it and lifting her from the ground. The chains screeched and hissed as they scratched against the floor. With still one hand tightly clasped on the girl's hair, he bent her head backwards, exposing her pulsating pale neck. A whine slipped from the girl's mouth, with a tear droplet streaming down her cheek. Harkon couldn't help but chuckle, as he wickedly trailed his fingernail up the centre of her neck, slowly digging his nail into her skin. He could feel her trembling, hear the skipping beat of the drum in her chest. He could almost dance to the music her body was creating. He wasn't hurting her, this girl didn't suffer the fear of physical pain. She simply feared what he was. She feared his kind.

"Such hatred and hostility from a little lamb," he whispered, the heat of his breath triggering shivers to scuttle up the girls spine. "Now, I've told you my name; your turn."

"What do…"

"Ah, ah! That's not what I asked. Are you going to make me ask again?"

"What do you…"

"I do not have the patience for such games." Harkon hissed, yanking her head backwards even more and leaning his body closer to hers so that his body brushed against her torso. He continued his lips nearly touching her neck, "be still. This will sting."

A sharp wail sprung from the girl's lips, her body quaking in his dark embrace. He hadn't even touched her yet, his lips had not brushed against her skin; his fangs had definitely not yet pierced her flesh. He couldn't resist curling his lip into a sinful sneer, as he leant his head a little closer.

"Wait! Wait!" the girl pleaded, her body trembling like a lost child caught in the ice rain that came down like biting stones on her porcelain skin.

Harkon's lips stretched into a wider grin, with a low chuckle rumbling in his throat as he pressed his lips against the centre of her pulsating neck. Her skin was hot, like a blazing fire, and her smell! Much more intense, much more delicious; more irresistible, when this close. He could feel his own body trembling slightly as her enthralling perfume blocked his senses. The honeyed scent came at him in perilous waves that made it difficult for him to keep his fangs locked in his jaw. He inhaled her scent, taking a long, deep breath of her - savouring every aspect of the unique, desirable perfume she radiated, as she trembled in his grip.

"Arianna." She gasped, chocking on sobs that were frantic to burst. She continued, swallowing any snuffles that previously tried to escape, "My name is Arianna. Okay? Please..."

A single muted laugh jumped in the vampire's throat as he slowly loosened his grasp, now grasping onto her chin, tapping his nails into her skin and pushing her head to the side as he traced his tongue along her forehead, lapping up any droplets of blood that had clung to her skin from her previous ordeal. A stifled whimpered and growl quietly slipped from Arianna's lips as his tongue slowly ran across her skin. It made her shiver. She abruptly shook her shoulders, rattled her body; jolted her head, but he didn't move – he didn't even seem to be distracted by her movements.

Harkon felt as if his tongue was on fire, his taste buds exploding and juddering on his tongue. He trembled slightly as his blood sizzled in his veins, with his fangs poking out from his curling lip. Never had he experienced a taste such as that! He pulled away, gradually, snapping up any small sweet droplets of warm blood that had hung to his lip, unable to conceal his raised eyebrow and the look of desire painted on his face.

Harkon took Arianna's head in his fingertips, gently but firmly, gripping onto her jaw and shifting her head so that she was looking right at him. "So," he began, still quite taken back by the taste of her, "I believe, that you slain several members of my court. Three vampires was it? Tell me, how does a lone mortal, go about accomplishing such an act? There must be something within that aids you in your moment of need?"

Arianna scrunched up her nose and abruptly jerked her head from his ice grasp. Harkon didn't try to reach for her again, but instead stood studying the mortal, with a deepened curiosity brewing in his glowing sharp eyes.

"I can handle myself in the mist of any battle!" the girl spat, with a few singular spiralled strands of red hair falling to her face, "now let me go!"

"You are certainly in no position to be making any sort of demands, little lamb." Harkon teased, kicking his heel against the hard ground and strolling over to a throne that was a few feet away from them, sitting in front of the sizzling orange glow of the fire that was flickering like a flag in the wind, and spitting out sparks of red flame onto the floor. He twisted the throne with one hand, easily spinning it with the flick of his wrist so that it faced chained Arianna. Arianna snarled, jerking her body in the chains, trying to dash for the table speckled with possible weapons, but the chain yanked her back, making it impossible for her to take a few steps towards it. Harkon gave a chuckle, studying her with an attentive inquisitiveness as he sank into his throne, locking his eyes on Arianna's flustered face, with his arm positioned on the wooden armrest; with his finger resting on his bottom lip.

"Well, you're mistaken if you think I'm going to fall submissively to my knees and ask politely." the girl snorted, wrenching her arms in the chains and furrowing her brows as she snarled, barking at Harkon with ire slithering up her throat, "argh! Let me go! Give me back my amulet! Now!"

"What is so precious about that amulet? Perhaps I shall give it another look. I may even find a use for it."

"No! Give it back to me!"

"Curious, it wasn't an amulet of any divines. I do not care for such amulets, they irritate me greatly. It is such nonsense that someone will put all their derisory devotion and faith into a trinket of deceit. Such things are curious, and awfully ludicrous. Do you not think?"

"Give me back my amulet leech!"

"You know what else is quite curious, and oddly fascinating? The fact that you stand there, and persist on making a fool's demands, and you stand there…"

"Give me back my amulet."

"Acting as if not one ounce of fear flows through your body. It is nonsensical and quite pathetic, because I can actually sense, even taste, the horror that infests you, and I can smell it seeping out of your skin…"

"Give me it back."

"Yet you act, as if it is a sensation that does not corrupt you; does not make you shudder and sweat."

"Stop."

"Do you want to know when that horrid sentiment, the feeling of terror and horrid hopelessness, was the most pungent?"

"Stop."

Raising up from his throne, Harkon slowly strolled back to Arianna. She glared at the floor, twisting her cold wrists and gnawing onto her inner cheek. Harkon grinned, as he watched her body tremble slightly. He could see a droplet of sweat trickle down her back, sliding down her shoulder and sinking behind her clothes from her neck.

He continued, with Arianna refusing to look up, "It was when I came towards you. Reaching out my hand…" He did the actions he spoke, grasping onto Arianna's body as she jerked away from him with her erratic bursts of breath rasping in her throat, "with my body close to yours, so that I could hear your heart, your breath. Smell your scent, the spice of fear and frustration, and the intoxicating smell of your blood that I can feel now, flowing deep and fast in your veins." His body was close to her, with one strong hand locking onto her back, with his fingers shaping around her spine, and with the other hand clasped around her neck, seizing a few hair strands in the process, and yet again, wrenching back her head so that her porcelain neck was, again, on display for him. "I believe it was the anticipation, wasn't it? The endless torturous wait for it to be over. Awaiting the moment when my lips would touch your neck…" He did this as he spoke, leaning his head to her flesh, with his lip brushing against her skin; with his breath making her quake, and triggering a small whine to slip from her lips. "Waiting for the sting of my bite."

"P…please…" the trembling girl stuttered, stifled from the terrified whines that gathered in her throat.

"I know you don't fear death," Harkon began, pulling away and instead drawing circles the girls stretched neck with the tip of his finger, "I'm sure you would greet your death with ease. It is a great fear for some. You simply mention death, lock the word in a threat or warning, and they will submit, due to their piteous fear of passing. They cling so much onto life. It is probably what makes us so alarming. I have defeated life's greatest enemy, you see. I have conquered mortality; death cannot snatch me away in the forms of illness or old age. My very being spits in the face of death. It is something that will never come for me. But that is not what you fear, is it? There is something else you fear. Perhaps it's our kind? Your persistence in delivering these threats to vampires; your tendency to antagonize us, masks your fear… well, masks it for some. Although, you felt the sickly sensation of fear as soon as you laid your eyes on us didn't you? You act so brave and courageous here, in my castle, but I heard that you actually ran away when the group snatched you at the inn. Was it our speed, our strength; our eyes? Perhaps you're more fearful in my presence? Your body quakes in my embrace."

His grasp on Arianna became suddenly more firm, and a muted squawk erupted in her mouth when Harkon gruffly drew her body closer to his. "Does my bite scare you?" he teased.

The manner of which he spoke annoyed her. He was mocking her, purposely changing the nature and pitch of his voice just to provoke her. She jerked her arms again, she could barely move them. Breathing slowly, concentrating a lot on her breath, she bit down onto her tongue and snapped her head back to its normal position. "What do you want?" she mumbled, grinding her teeth to hold back the growl.

A chuckle rumbled in his throat, as he took hold of her chin and lifted her head. "Is that not obvious?" he goaded with a low snicker. "What are you?"

A wave of confusion swooped over Arianna, as she glared at the fascination in the vampire's eyes. "What am I?" she repeated, cocking an eyebrow and squinting her eyes, "what I am, is annoyed."

"Fearful don't you mean?" Harkon interrupted with a snigger. The look of irritation bubbling in Arianna's face amused him.

"Let me out of these fucking chains, Harkon."

"Is that a demand? I hope not, little lamb, for I will remind you that you are in no position, at all, to make demands in my presence."

"And when not in your presence?"

Harkon's red eyes widened, with his eyebrows lifting above them. They relaxed again when a soundless chuckle juddered in his throat. Did she really just say that? He was surprised that the fiery girl was so calm, possessing not just captivating looks or bravery, but wits and charisma too. How extraordinary.

"Perhaps if you behave," he began, gripping tightly onto Arianna's chin, in which a low growl slipped from her lips, "I will consider, loosening those chains."

"I don't want them loosened, I want them off!"

"Want, want! I'm afraid the only one who gets what they desire in this castle, he is me my dear. If you wish to acquire what you want, so desperately, you will have to persuade me to alter my conviction."

His eyes flashed to her neck, as he brushed back a strand of red hair behind the girl's ear, triggering shivers to rush up her body. A heavy gulp of air crawled down the girl's throat as she glared at the vampire in front of her. There was an unnerving hunger in his red eyes. A hunger that made her fidget. It took her breath away, and made the small hairs on her arms and neck stand up straight. A gasp sprung from her lips as the vampire leant his head to her neck. The prick of his facial hair on her neck, and the tickle of his head hair on her skin made her arms shudder. She found herself yanking her arms again, twisting her wrists and roughly wrenching her hands. The ice prick of the chain was making her skin burn, but still she hauled at them as Harkon took a heavy breath of her scent.

A predatory growl grumbled in the vampire's throat, making Arianna's vivid eyes dart to his direction. Harkon rolled back his eyes and pulled away, casting his cold eyes on the startled girl with a look of disdain to his guise. "You know," he growled, clicking his tongue and snapping his teeth together. With the shot of his hand he was at the girl neck. She squealed as his fingers coiled around her flesh, with a look of horror swelling in her distinctive bright eyes. He tugged her head closer to his, with his eyes burning into her own. "That constant rattle of your chains," he hissed, "is really…aggravating. Stop it!"

With the stretch of his fingers, Harkon dropped Arianna to the floor, and she crashed onto the ground with a thud, with the clashing of chains rattling in the room with a shrill chime that sprung off the ice walls. She could not prevent the bursts of dry coughs that exploded from her mouth, as she bowed her head to the floor, resting on her knees with her fingertips stroking her neck.

"What I want, Arianna," he began, with a growing impatience shuddering in his voice, as he toyed with the sharp tools on the table, "is your blood. Your smell is unique, alluring; extremely luscious smelling. It is something that is new to me. Something I desire to have; crave to taste…"

Arianna shuffled backwards on the floor, crashing her back into the wooden bench beside her, tugging furiously at the chains with her breath shaking in her throat. Her eyes filled up with fear; her heart thumping chaotically in her chest, as Harkon slowly swivelled round to face her.

"Don't come near me!" she screeched, shuffling backwards, still wrenching her arms in the chains.

"Ah," Harkon chuckled, swaying on his heels with an unsettling predacious manner as he slowly moved towards her. "That there, is fear. I can smell it. Crisp, enthralling and ever so sweet. But don't worry yourself little lamb, I'm not going to kill you."

Arianna let out a sharp scream as Harkon rushed towards her, zooming at her at the speed of light, and lifting her to her feet with one tug of her hair. She screamed, tears making her eyes glassy and streaming down her face. With a squeal she thrust her leg and booted the vampire in between his legs, quickly scurrying away as the stunned vampire growled and bent his body forward. She rushed around the bench, heaving furiously at the chains with panicked blasts of air bursting from her lips.

The low chuckle ringing through the air made Arianna cease her actions, in which she peered up, Goosebumps forming on her chilled skin and the hairs on her body becoming erect. The ghastly lump crawling sluggishly down her throat made her gag and tremble. But when her eyes scanned around her, her body began to quake, and a droplet of warm clammy fluid trickled down her skin. She couldn't see Harkon anywhere! Where was he? By the eight! Where did he go?

"You shouldn't have done that little lamb," was the chilling whisper that she trembled to. She felt the horrid sensation of breath hitting her neck from behind her, causing her teeth to clamp down onto her quivering lip. She wanted to speak but couldn't. Wanted to move but could not feel her limbs. She shuddered to the ice tear that rolled down her cheek. Maybe she shouldn't have done that.

With the flick of his hand lord Harkon spun Arianna's frozen body around to face him. Her chest and arms knocked into his torso, crashing against the shining steel of his armour, with her legs knocking into his. He took tight hold of her with his calloused hands locking onto her arms, but there was no need to hold her still. He could sense the fear on her, the saccharine fragrance of it simmered up his nostrils. But the one smell that really enticed him, was the smell of her. The honeyed spice of her blood. Inhaling her scent sent a wave of ecstasy over him, and made his throat burn like a roaring blaze with his mouth growing moist. But he grew curious when the scent of fear began to diminish. It was still there, he could sense it, but it suddenly became less overpowering. Perhaps there really was more to this girl than meets the eye. Shouldn't she, at this moment, be crumbling into despair, flooded with fear that would make her body tremble until she could barely stand? She wasn't. Why?

Arianna's eyes flashed madly in different directions, as if a troubled thought was racing through her mind - on loop, never to turn off. Harkon couldn't help but admire them. The hypnotic colour of rich, sapphire blue in one eye, and a vibrant, glimmering emerald in the other. Never had he witnessed eyes as bright or as vivid as hers, and the beautiful contrast between her glowing orbs, her vivacious fiery red hair and her porcelain cream skin, really did highlight her splendour and exquisiteness. He then found his eyes trailing to her scarlet lips, beautifully shaped and deliciously enticing. It was unsurprising that his eyes ended up locked on her neck, studying the shape of her collarbone, and of course, watching her heavenly vein pulsate softly beneath her polished skin.

At last Arianna snapped her head up to look upon him, with a strong assertion glowing in her vivid eyes. Harkon was taken back; actually stumbled backwards and froze with confusion, when the girl rammed her lips against his. Her lips brushed against his with a force and viciousness that was bittersweet to him, and the taste of her lips against his was erotic!

Arianna could feel a chuckle shuddering in Harkon's throat as she thrown her lips onto his, craning her neck and balancing on her tip toes - not until now did she realise how tall this vampire was. She initially expected his touch to be cold, like gluing your lips onto a block of steaming ice, but it was hardly the case. It was warm, captivating and gripping, and when she felt his firm grip against her back it triggered shivers to tremor up her spine, and scatter across the back of her neck. She found her mind swivelling with chaos when the vampire began to slowly pilot her body backwards, so that she stumbled on her toes, nearly tripping over his feet and her own with unrest.

Harkon hugged the girl to his body, brushing his hand up her back and gripping firmly onto her waist, tugging her body further into his so that he could feel her shape against his torso. As soon as the girl parted her lips, snatching a breath of air, he took the advantage, rushing his tongue into her mouth and wrapping it sensually around her tongue. It was electrifying to hear the girl gasp into his mouth; only arousing him more. The smell of her was so overpowering now, like a dangerous, roaring bright flame that could never be extinguished. The enticing spice of her sweet smelling blood was making his blood simmer. It created an otherworldly sting to lance at his throat. And the taste of her tongue; her luscious lips, was only enticing him more.

A sharp gasp erupted from the girl mouth, with her lips pulling away from Harkon's as the vampire swiftly broke the chains from her wrists with the flick of his hand, zooming his body and her body to a wall, slamming her back against it with a force that almost knocked the wind out of her. She barely at time to catch her breath before the vampire was back at her, shoving his lips into hers, with a much more frenzied sensual ferocity, so fierce and forceful that it made the girl's heart nearly burst from her chest.

A sharp cry of pain shuddered in Arianna's throat, with a warm liquid falling from her lips, and dripping down her skin. Blood! Had he… had he just bit her? She grunted with a pain that quickly lanced at her tongue, but the vampire didn't notice. She tried to pull away, anxious of what was to come, but his lips latched onto her. The tremor of his groan made her squirm, as he indulged on the hot fiery blood that was bursting from her tongue. She felt her body crumbling into him, with his arms crushing her further into his body. The sting of tears was making her wince – the blood seemed to stream down her skin with more thickness, and warmth, with red droplets trickling down her neck.

Harkon pulled away, droplets of blood dripping from his exposed teeth, and dribbling down his lip. Arianna snapped her head away but the vampire snatched it back, lapping up the droplets of blood from her lips and chin with a hissing sneer. With the tip of his finger, resting it below her chin, he slowly lifted up Arianna's head, glaring into her eyes with a smirk, as she gazed back, scowling with her lips screwed up into a snarl.

With still that fierce, fiery expression of hostility brewing in her eyes and distorting the shape of her lips, Arianna threw her now free hands to Harkon's head, grasping roughly onto the back of his skull and neck, thrusting her body closer to him with her mouth lunging to his lips. Harkon shoved his body into her, clasping onto her back and stroking the leg that brushed up his waist with the tips of his fingers.

Arianna danced on her toes, cautiously rotating their bodies away from the wall, and instead treading to the direction of the door. Her breath snatched away from her when she felt the slam of stone against the back of her legs, with stone knocking into her bottom and back. She managed to tug her lips away from Harkon's, snapping her head to the side, with her quick eyes scanning the table she was now pinned onto.

The stone table was cold against her back, and the dampness of it sent shivers to rush up her spine. She hoped that she wasn't sitting on any droplets of blood. She shuddered to the thought. Her body flinched to the chill of the vampire's touch, sweeping his hand up her bare skin, brushing up the shirt she wore, with his fingers trailing along her waist. The bitter air nipped at her exposed stomach, and made a blanket of shivers mask her skin. Arianna gritted her teeth when Harkon threw his lips from her jaw, to her neck. The echo of his deep inhales made her shoulders twitch, and triggered her arm to stretch across the table.

She could just about feel the wet, chilling sensation of his tongue lavish her skin before she managed to wrap her stretching fingers around a weapon. She had no time to check what it was. A grunt left her lips, with a fierce growl erupting from Harkon's as she quickly plunged the weapon into his waist, giving her enough time to scramble off the table, snatching a weapon and holding it to her chest as she darted for the door. She looked to down to her hands, snarling when she realised that she had picked up a pair of blood-stained scissors. Out of all the things, she picked up that! Her hand clutched around the ice door handle, in which she tugged it chaotically, heaving and gasping. Why wasn't it budging?

"I should have guessed that you would do something like that," Harkon chuckled – Arianna quickly spun round, terror inflicting her as she watched the vampire beside the table, clutching onto her scissors as tightly as she could. Harkon looked down to his waist, gritting his teeth as he tugged the heavy wood-axe that had gouged his flesh. A low grunt seeped from his lips when he yanked the thing out, tossing it the floor with the flick of his hand.

His piercing eyes flashed up to look upon Arianna, and he chuckled with the wave of his finger, "that was clever. Very clever, well done. Though I must ask…" His tone suddenly became more serious, the click of his shoes making Arianna shudder as he slowly came nearer to her, "what are you going to do now, little lamb? The door is locked, and only I have the key. Also, do you really think, that you are going to do any harm, to me, with that? I use that, and that axe, on people like you. I make them squeal and beg with such simple tools. My victims, beg for death long before I am done with them. They do not know pain, they do not know fear or treachery, until I show it to them. And when I show them the true meaning of pain, and fear and regret, they beg for an end, beg for an end that never comes soon enough. I show them, what it is like to know true fear."

Arianna stroked the cold stone wall with her fingertips, and holding her weapon securely in her grasp, as she trailed along the wall – keeping her petrified eyes locked on Harkon who swayed towards her. She raised her arm and pointed her tool at him when he got closer to her. She trembled in his presence, chocked on the erratic beating of her heart that was throttling in her throat.

"Drop that," Harkon warned slowly, with a horrid sternness to his voice, "and I'll consider being more lenient with you."

Arianna shook her head, gnawing on her lip with tears brimming her eyelashes and stinging her eyes.

"Can you not speak now?" Harkon teased, now not far from shaking Arianna, "it's your own fault. Didn't your mother ever tell you, to think before you act? I must admit, your tactics were outrageously cunning. But, now that I have had a taste of your blood, I'm burning for more, and since that you were so disrespectful… "

Arianna squealed as she ran past him, tears ready to roll down her cheeks from the toxic douse of horror that plagued her. Why was she so scared? What was it about him which made her shudder with dread? She didn't want to be like this!

A sharp screeched broke from Arianna's lips when Harkon snatched her arm, yanking her body backwards, so that her back knocked against his chest. Before she could twist her wrist Harkon took hold of it, squeezing her bone in his fingertips, prying away the weapon that she clutched onto and chucking it into the blazing red fire. She whimpered when she felt the sensation of his skin draw closer to her neck. "I think I'll avoid being gentle," he hissed into her ear, gripping onto her arms with his head rushing to her neck.

A piercing scream shattered in the air, breaking from Arianna's lips as the pain from Harkon's callous bite flushed across her body. The torturous prick of his razor fangs were too much to endure, making it impossible to prevent the rain of tears that cascaded down her face. She found herself counting the seconds, minutes… even hours, it felt like. The groans tremoring off from his body made his stinging bite even more excruciating. She desperately wanted to flinch away, lash out and rocket through the air every time his hand grasped onto her, squeezing her body deeper into his chest, with his hand even stroking her red hair at one point, as she wept in his embrace. It was more torturous knowing that it was impossible to break free from his cold embrace.

His groans of pleasure continued as he consumed her life fluids, but she only became weak, falling limp in his arms, only able to project a few gasps from her parted lips. She felt as if she was slipping away from reality, collapsing into the dark, and the only thing that was keeping her awake was the prick of Harkon's fangs digging into her skin…

Harkon noticed that the girl was getting heavy in his arms. Her breath was now softer, and slower with the inhales and exhales. He could feel her beating heart reducing in speed, now only tapping softly against her chest. He had to stop! Stop now or he would surely kill the girl! But how could he? The rich exotic taste that flushed across his tongue was so sensual, so delicious and pure. There was nothing as exquisite, or unique, or as blissful as the taste of spiced blood that flooded in his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to draw his lips away from those veins. Couldn't bare the mental strength to tug his fangs out from the girl's soft skin. He didn't want to, so why should he have to? He couldn't let go of the taste. Didn't want to cut off the honeyed silk that flowed down his throat. Her riveting blood didn't appease his hunger or ravenous thirst, but only made his craving more intense, more fiery and unbearable! He had to stop! If he didn't, her heart would stop first and she would no longer dance amongst the living. But her taste was so addictive! The enslaving spice made his head swoon, and his body tremble. It made him feel alive, gifted him a sensation that he had abandoned centuries ago. It was like feeling the gentle golden kiss of sunlight on his lips. He didn't want to let go of it. It was too valuable to give up! But her slowing heart was an urgent problem. He had to stop! He had to stop!

When he finally hauled his jaws away from her neck she collapsed to the floor like a sack of meat, crumbling onto the floor beside Harkon's feet. Harkon stood motionless, thick strings of blood dripping from his lips and teeth, one or two red droplets even splashing onto Arianna's skin as she lay on the floor, as limp as corpse. For the first time his breath was deep, bursting from his blood-stained lips in heavy gasps.

The vampire stood there for a while. Breathing, dazed but alive. The only thing that moved was his eyes that, after a while, flashed down to the girl on the floor.

* * *

><p><strong>So, what did you all think of this chapter? Happy that Harkon has finally stumbled into my little bloodlust story? Please leave a review telling me your thoughts so far, I would love to know if i'm doing okay, and if you guys are enjoying it. Thank you for reading xxx<strong>


	4. Curiosity

It was black. Black and empty like the hollow, callous colour of darkened coal. There was no gentle golden glow from the blistering sun. No tender blue spreading across the sky. It was black. Dark and harsh, with a wicked chill that nipped and clawed at skin. It was vicious, uncharted; cruel. And if wandering eyes were to look to the sun, they would not see the beautiful, golden eye that had once serenely watched over Skyrim's lands. It was a horrid red and black hole! A chilling black abyss that had swallowed up any gentle light – ripping anything light and pure away from the land. Arianna looked up at in despair, shaking to the cold and grinding her teeth at the brewing sickly sensation that slithered across her skin.

Cries and screams of terror surrounded her - yelps of pain and shouts of confusion and dread. There was a clatter of hisses and roars and screeches and wails - drawing the girl's attention away from the blood darkness that polluted the sky. Around her squealing mortals fled, scrambling through the scratching grass; racing towards love ones or rushing out of burning buildings. Capering after them, hissing and snickering, were swarms of dark, sinful creatures with glowing eyes and corpse-like skin. They had the swift movements of a ghost as they glided through the biting air. They were the sinful predators that enjoyed the unnerving cries of pain and anguish. They fed off fear, and enjoyed the taste of it.

Arianna could only watch, tears swelling in her eyes and pain freezing her body to stone. Her body shivered to the low rattling of a deep chuckle, and the hairs on the back of her neck became erect when a flash of warmth touched her shoulder. She needed not turn; she could see the phantom who caressed her forming in her mind, even without casting her eyes on whoever stood before her. She knew exactly who it was, and shock did not engulf her when the phantom swiftly spun her around, with the flick of his hand. He took her by the chin and lifted her head higher through the air.

The explosions of cries and shrieks of agony filled her ears, and crushed her heart as the phantom pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her body, with them tightening around her frame. The chilling screams seemed to grow louder. The sky seemed to darken. Skyrim slowly crumbling beneath her…

* * *

><p>The swallowing softness of the mattress beneath Arianna's body seemed to keep her locked in a slumber, though a pleasant sleep it was not. Her body tossed and turned, with her head rattling side to side; her body thrusting itself deeper into the bed she lay upon. Sweat gathered on her brow, trickling down her arms and sticking to her neck and breast. Again she fidgeted, sharp grunts spitting out from her lips. Minute by minute, her body thrashed more chaotically against the bed with her muted squeals gradually growing louder as they erupted from her mouth.<p>

At long last Arianna's eyes sprung open, with her body jolting upwards; her ragged breath rattling in her throat. Heavy bursts of air spurted from her lips, as she bowed her head to her chest, causing a curtain of her red hair to fall over her face, with curling strands scratching against her knee. With her hand, she wiped away the clammy droplets of sweat that crudely clung to her porcelain skin; raking her fingertips roughly through her hair and softly gnawing onto her bottom lip. How long had she been out? Where was she?

She cautiously observed around her, her body shuddering slightly from a wicked cold that nipped at her skin. She could feel the clinging, hot clammy hands of agitation pinching at her, mustering droplets of sweat on the back of her neck. She snapped it away with the swift, abrupt motion of her hand and vigilantly slipped off from the bed she had been left on. The floor beneath her was like ice, and the callous coldness rushed up her limbs like a zap of electricity – making a blanket of ghastly shivers sweep over her skin. When she looked down she noticed how she was bare footed, with her small toes reluctantly prodding at the chilled stone floor.

The bed that Arianna had been left on was quite large, stretching out wide enough to easily fit two, possibly three people. Draped over the large, extravagant bed, with the rich ebony stone frame and the entrancing gothic carvings engraved into the headboard and base, was a rich, blood-red quilt, that was greatly soothing and engulfing, to Arianna, feeling softer than any king's silk, when she had lain on it. The headboard stretched up quite high, with deep red curtains hanging from the stone wall, falling behind the bed. Arianna gazed at it with confusion. This was a sort of bed fit for kings, or emperors even! But not even kings or emperors possessed such an extravagant luxury as this. Where was she? Why had she awakened on that?

Directly in front of her, to the left of the bed, was a sort of stone balcony, with a single glowing candle mounted on the stone slab of the barrier. Arianna stumbled towards it, grunting and wincing as she moved. She felt awfully weak for some reason, but could not acknowledge why.

When her fingers caressed the low stone balcony, her body trembled. The coldness of it made her teeth go on edge. She cautiously peered down, her eyes growing wide and glassy with apprehension. Blood was splattered on the walls and stained on the floor beside a wooden torture bench with a table ahead of it. There was a pool of blood beside an orange flickering fire – not far from where the table was situated. Deadly torture devices were lashed on the stone floor – the ashy remains of one metal object crumbling out from the fire; a blood axe tossed randomly beside the leg of the table.

With an angered ferocity brewing in her eyes, Arianna brought her eyebrows together, and jolted away from the balcony. She abruptly moved away, following the torn grey carpet to the stone stairs – a long soft, yet thin carpet, speckled with exotic patterns in a blurring silver material. Her arms crossed over her chest; her fingertips rubbing her skin, which was stinging from the bitter cold.

She rushed down the pale stone steps quickly – the patting of her capering feet echoing in the unsettling, quiet air. The silence distressed her. It made her skin crawl with shivers. It made all the muscles in her body freeze. Normally, she embraced the silence –relishing the stillness, and hush of the night, where movements are inaudible, with the land standing still. Normally, silence was her decree; her glamorous domain – she was unashamed to concede. But the silence here… was different. It was wrong, and bitter, and made every trivial, precautious step, as loud as the crashing of a mammoth.

Arianna scuttled across the hall, prancing on her tiptoes, with a soundless bounce to her swift step. She took care to avoid the splashed of blood, splattered messily across the floor, and hurried towards the door, refusing to look back nor stop. Though, when her fingers came into contact with the heavy, brass doorknob of the towering, grand, double wooden doors, she did glance behind her. She cautiously scanned the hall, skimming the stairs, with her inimitable, apprehensive eyes. She could feel a grisly lump emerging in her throat as she stood there – enough of this, she had to get out! With a tug, she tried to haul the door open. It wouldn't budge. Again and again she yanked, being careful not to make too much noise – but the door refused to shift, no matter how hard she heaved at it.

A long puff of air burst from her lips, with Arianna's vexed glance locked on the doorknob. Her thumb ran across the chilled metal – noting the dent in the doorknob. A lock! How sneaky! Arianna analysed the lock more, clicking her tongue and probing at the metal with her fingernails. She'd had a crack at many locks in her time, and knew which ones could be picked, and which sly ones needed a key. A displeased sigh escaped her mouth as she shoved herself away from it, scowling around her with her fingers tapping against her arm. To her disappointment, this was one of them devious, aberrant ones that required a key - something that was going to be hard to obtain.

It could have been anywhere! It could have been on the other side of that door, for all Arianna knew. But she had to shake those contemplations away. She couldn't afford to just _give up._ She had to try – try, at her finest efforts, to free herself from this place!

Still treading lightly, she proceeded to hurry back up the stone steps – rushing up them as quietly as she could manage. When she reached the top, she examined around her, swiftly, with a fierce look of obstinate determination glowing in her bright, attentive eyes.

"A key," she snappishly said aloud, in a hush voice, rushing towards a long and thin, rich wooden dresser, not far from the bed; against the grey, stone wall on the opposite side of the balcony, "if I was a key, where would I be?"

Her fingers coiled around the acutely shaped golden handle, in which she tugged at it. Locked! Arianna grinded her teeth together, glaring at the locked dresser with awe, "why has everything got to be locked?" she muttered, with a puff. A gleam of optimism suddenly flushed in her cheeks, with her hands rushing up to her hair. She diligently patted around her head, pursing her lips and squinting her eyes as her fingers raked through the thickness of her red hair. She placed her hand at the bottom of her skull, tapping her hair and then grinned, yanking out two tiny objects from her head. In her fingertips, she held two bobby pins, which she had hidden in the curling strands of her hair for predicaments. One was bent in half, fashioned by herself to act as a tension wrench to secure in a lock. Checking around her one more time, she stooped down into a determined crouch, carefully securing her handmade tension wrench into the tiny lock. She exhaled slowly, and with the bite of her tongue, vigilantly secured her bobby pin into the lock. With caution, she slowly rotated and wiggled the pick – analysing the lock intently with an assertive, concentration. The clicking of the lock was like music to Arianna's ears. A triumph grin stretched to her cheeks, as she plucked the bobby pins out from the lock, and slyly secured them back in her hair.

Inside was something she didn't want to find. There was no key – to her dissatisfaction. But curiosity began to simmer inside of her. Why the precaution? Arianna studied the contents inside with speculation and inquisitiveness. There was sharp silver letter opener inside, glimmering and glittering with an intriguing lustre. She picked it up and waved it in the air, analysing the cool metal with a captivated curiosity. There was one other thing – an envelope. It looked quite old, with the edges of the paper shrivelled and grey. It was if, the letter had been opened and resealed, opened and resealed many times. Arianna picked it up gently, examining it; wondering. Why had it been resealed? Why was it locked away? There was no name, or address on it. Was it right of her to open it?

As she stood there, she caught glimpse of her reflection in a long, rich wooden black mirror to the right-side of the bed. The glimmer of the glass caught her eye, and she wandered over to it, shutting the dresser shut; chucking the letter and the knife softly on the bed. Swathed around her neck, was a cotton cloth, with splotches of dry blood seeping through the material. Faint splashes of dry blood had stained her shoulder blade and breast, with even a few droplets splashed onto her cheek. She frowned to what she was wearing, not remembering changing her clothes. Wrapped around her petite body, was a dull, beige coloured tunic – like a long vest falling down her torso – with a pair of ragged shorts to match it. Her pale legs and arms were exposed; her chest prominent.

She scowled at her outlandish reflection, snapping her head away and brusquely spinning her body around, with her arms tightly folded across her chest. A shock of pain stabbed at her, making her skin throb for a moment. It was her neck, it was stinging and burning. With a wince, Arianna rushed her hand to it, wrapping her fingers around her neck and squeezing at her flesh – believing for some peculiar reason that it would curb the pain. It all came flushing back to her – the wave of dreaded fear, the stinging prick of Harkon's fangs and the blood. So much blood. She shivered, grimacing when she recalled that moment. Again, she could hear the unsettling echo of Harkon's groans, and the chilling words he jabbed at her, ringing like a mad bird in her head. It made her body tremble, with the devilish sense of anger gnawing into her.

For some weird reason, Arianna's eyes began to sting, with a clouded, almost grey mask of liquid shrouding her vision. She tried to stop her lip from trembling but it didn't help. Nor could she prevent the beads of tears that slowly trickled down her cheek. The sullen, empty feeling in her stomach was nauseating; the painful emotion yanking at her making her body tremble. The agonising thumping of her wrenching heart was something she hated to endure. She remembered this horrid feeling – it was when the sky was a grim grey, with stones of ice rain plummeting from the sky and harshly crashing down on her, biting and scratching at her skin. She couldn't experience them same emotions – not now… not here…

She stopped herself before a whine erupted from her lips - abruptly slapping her hand to her mouth and gnawing at her skin as the tears continued to slip from her closing eyes. Slowly, she collapsed to the floor, sliding down the toothed, ice wall she leant upon. She sat there for a moment, bringing her knees to her chest and burying her face in her hands. A mixture between irritation and sorrow flooded her face when she abruptly jerked her head up from her hands – roughly smearing away the tears that clung to her skin with the back of her hand. She snivelled, swallowing the lancing lump in her throat, before shakily rising to her feet.

She found herself, glimpsing back to her reflection, where she rubbed her face coarsely, and erased all tears droplets by snapping them off her skin. Puffing out a long gust of breath from her parted lips, she proceeded to turn around, snatching the knife and letter from the bed with the swift flick of her hand. She hid the knife in her clothes, carefully slipping half of it down her shorts – concealing the glimmering blade by heaving her tunic over it. She glared at the letter for a moment, running her fingers along the edges, and spinning the envelope in her fingers. With the click of her tongue, she proceeded to hide it, stuffing the sealed letter under a pillow on the bed – determined to inspect it once she'd figured out how to get out of here. The Key. She had to find the key – no more distractions; there just wasn't any time!

She cast her distinguishing, vivid eyes along the trivial upper floor – where she was still standing. Her eyes locked onto a wooden opposite the stairs – gothic carving whittled along the borders of the dark wood. Why had she noticed that before?

With caution, she slowly ambled over to it– her right hand resting on her hip, with her fingers shaping around the knife hidden in her clothes. The creaking of the door made her nervous, as she vigilantly shoved it open with the tips of her fingers. It was freezing inside – the biting cold made her wince, triggering a blanket of shivers to crudely cast over her barely covered body. She stood restlessly in the doorway, reluctant to venture inside. She couldn't think of the reason why. It was just a room. There was never anything scary, or threatening or dangerous about a room, was there? A load of rational contemplations madly rocketed through Arianna's mind, but still she was, for whatever unknown reason, hesitant to budge.

After a soothing exhale of soft, heavy breath drifted from her lips, she finally treaded inside. She wasn't herself in here, she knew it! The very air put her on edge. She wanted to dash out, like the humorous actions of a child. But, she continued to wander inside regardless, even if her skin was crawling with a sickly sensation that her very being loathed, and even if her teeth chattered soundlessly in her jaw, with her lip trembling and her skin freezing to ice. The loud bang of a shutting door made Arianna jolt into the air. Her heart thudded chaotically in her throat, as she peered behind her, noting how the door has suddenly swung shut. She ignored it, taking a breath and stepping further inside.

The first thing that she was greeted with, was a roaring fire – a blistering orange flame inside a tall, gothic iron brazier. Despite the sizzling fire positioned beside the stone wall, there was still an awful chill in the room. A weird, wicked cold that clung onto Arianna like biting insects. She tried her best to overlook, stepping further inside. The same grey carpet trailing from the bed to the stairs guided her further inside, a faint smell of ash simmered up Arianna's nostrils – most likely drifting from the blazing flame ahead of her.

A look of horror swamped Arianna's face as she craned her neck to the right. Mounted on a raised surface, ahead of two steps, propped up against the wall, was a coffin! It was grand, with the rich oak almost appearing red, when the radiating glow from the orange fire hit it. To its left, inclined against the wall, was a grand wooden dresser, with various carving fashioned into the wood. To its right, was a table, blood dripping from the wilted oak surface, with various gothic goblets stained red, and even a mead barrel – splattered with droplets of dried blood – speckled along the table. Arianna mused that whatever was in the barrel, was not mead – far from it. She stood in shock, hardly able to move as she glared alarmingly at the closed coffin. She wanted to get out, run out now, but her feet had frozen still. She couldn't move! As much as she desperately wanted to, she couldn't move!

At last, her limbs began to move again. Keeping her restless glare, locked on the coffin, Arianna stumbled backwards, crashing her back against the door with a stifled grunt exploding from her lips. She anxiously felt around for the door handle, and once found, hastily rammed the door open and rushed outside. She slammed the door close, keeping her palms pressed up against it as she attempted to control her heavy, ragged breath. It gave her shudders imaging what was inside of there.

Arianna raked her hand through her hair, and slumped onto the bed, twisting her lips and contemplating. How was she going to get out of here? With a sigh, she tugged out the knife from her clothes and toyed with it – trailing her fingertips up the cool metal, and probing the point edge. She studied the handle, an exotic ebony handle, carved from a rich stone. It was more like a work of art than a simple knife. The handle seemed to be some sort of face, with sharp tusks coming out from the sides, and wrapping around the knife. It was a devilish thing. But awfully peculiar and intriguing.

"The beating of your heart was so loud," an amused, chilling voice teased – a venomous golden voice that made Arianna quake. A shushed chuckle rattled through the air, and vibrated in her eardrums. She shivered, with fear holding her still. "I bet the whole castle heard its unruly rhythm," he continued, with the shrill echo of his boots moving towards the bed, "I predicted that you would go snooping. I'm amused, I must confess, it seems that it will take more than one bite to make you obedient."

Arianna quickly spun her body around, gripping tightly on the knife that was locked in her right hand. She found herself sinking further into the mattress, squirming further and further away from Harkon so that her back knocked against the bed's rigid headboard, with her fists snatching clumps of the quilt – twisting the soft material with her stiff fingers. Her knees drew close to her chest, with her quick eyes glued onto the vampire's face – watching his lip curl into a playful sneer, exposing the tip of his fang. It gave her shivers looking at it. It made her wince! She could almost again feel the tormenting agony of his bite - the horrific, torturous sting of it.

"Don't come near me!" Arianna yapped, gripping onto the quilt more tightly; twisting it with more anxiousness and dread. The lump wickedly crawling down her throat gave her shivers, and made her limbs twist. His eyes were burning into her! Those glowing, devilish eyes! Yet, the hot hand of anger still gript onto Arianna tightly, and would not let go. She could feel its sweet poison brewing in her eyes, and spreading across her body, making her shudder and radiate a fiery heat from her skin.

"Disappointing," he said with a bored tone, ignoring her desperate demands and approaching her anyway, standing at the foot of the bed with a threating, predatory manner which made Arianna nervous. "I was expecting a retort, with a little more diversion, and hilarity. My, my, you are positively petrified, aren't you little lamb?"

The claws of ire burrowed deeper into Arianna's skin, piercing her flesh and seeping into her blood – boiling it – making her ready to erupt. Her teeth clamped down onto her lip, with her head snapping away from Harkon, and instead her eyes focused on the patterns in the quilt she lay upon.

"What? Am I infuriating you?" Harkon provoked with a chuckle, placing one foot closer to the bed, "well go ahead. Incite me. Make my day. Go ahead, I dare you."

"Go rot in Oblivion, leech!"

"Is that the best you can do, little lamb? Your tedious remarks are boring me."

"Then leave me. Or even better, let me the fuck go! Asshole!"

"Hmm," Harkon began, placing his hands on the base of the bed, and leaning over it slightly, pressing all of his weight onto the stone – Arianna believed that it might crack and shatter from how forceful he was pressing down on it. "I have better uses for you here."

"I'm not going to be your fucking blood bag! Leech!" Arianna barked, scrambling to the other end of the bed and dangling her legs off of the edge. Harkon studied her movements, like one does when curiously watching the behaviours of a wild animal. He studied the sway of her legs, noting the twitching of her toes as they dangled above the stone ground, and the curve of her foot when it was elevated in the air. Her long legs were firm-looking, shapely and strong, and the pale shade of them reminded him of the pure radiance of snow – unspoiled, unscathed and exquisite. Her cascading hair had the fiery vividness of a flame, he noted, and was like a wave of fire as it gracefully fell down her back. He could smell her from where he was standing. The sensual, enticing spice that made his senses tingle – something that had never plagued him before. The taste of her blood was a constant reminiscence - persistently jabbing at the back of his throat, and tugging at the strings in his mind. Even the faint spice of dried, dead blood on her skin and on his floor was enough to make his throat burn.

"I would like it if you gave me back my knife," Harkon demanded calmly, holding out his hand. Arianna held the knife tighter, glaring up at Harkon's stern, glowing eyes with apprehension. But she held herself strong. Her tongue ran across her lip, and she snapped up her head suddenly with the flick of her hair.

"I don't like to be kept waiting," he warned, cocking his eyebrow and voicing his orders in a more sombre tone. "I'll tell you one more time, give me back my knife."

"And if I say no?" Arianna provoked, looking more sternly into Harkon's eyes. She began to feel more confident – the agitating grip of fear was gradually slipping away from her. It felt good to slowly be free from its torments.

A low chuckle drifted from Harkon's lips, with his head shaking and his nails drumming into the head board. He stopped and looked up, a playful grin stretched across his cheeks. Arianna glowered with bewilderment and uncertainty, sinking further into the mattress and slinking back to the bed's headboard. "Do I have to come and get it?" he taunted, in an odd coquettish tone, craning his head to the side, with his glance making Arianna uneasy. "I'm intrigued," he began, glaring at Arianna with an unnerving hunger brewing in his eyes, "I'm certain that I didn't leave that out for you to yield. Tell me, and do not feed me lies, where did you find that?"

Arianna shrugged. Instead of growing mad Harkon chuckled, he could sense the sweet aroma of trepidation seeping out from her skin. It amused him – her bold efforts to hide her true feelings. Harkon was not easily fooled. She could not hide her true emotions from him. Though, her desperate attempts to do so, was curious to him – captivating even. He was accustomed to mortals weeping and begging at his feet, but this girl was diverse. She was daring and audacious. She fed him the bittersweet rejoinders that he craved. It amused him; fascinated him. It made this girl unique - a trait that enticed him.

"Do you know what it is? The blade you so tightly cling onto to?" he asked intently, in which Arianna shook her head vigilantly. His devilish grin splashed across his face, "it is a tribute to the daedric prince, Molag Bal. That him, there sculptured on that handle you hold onto. I doubt you have heard of him….but…that conversation can be left to another occasion." "Last time, give me the blade."

"Or what?" Arianna goaded, anger turning her words into a bitter growl and crinkling her face into a scowl, "you'll kill me? You drink me dry? Go ahead, because if I' m honest, I don't give a damn. If you think that you can scare me with threats of death, then you can never be more wrong. Death does not scare me, and it never will. So go ahead. I dare _you_, to give me your best shot."

"Your courage never fails to surprise me."

Harkon slowly began to saunter around the bed; his finger dragged along the base of bed as he trailed past it. Arianna sat uncomfortably on the bed, snappishly jerking the blade in the air and pointing it at Harkon. He chuckled as he cast an eye over her. He walked to her side of the bed, leaning against the balcony, watching her chest rise and fall – noting the veins pulsating heavily against her skin in her neck, and watching a droplet of sweat trickle down her shoulder blade.

"I thought you implied that you have no fear," Harkon teased with his tongue flicking across his teeth, "that you have no fear for death."

"I don't. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to throw myself to you defensiveness."

A chuckle rumbled in Harkon's throat, with his eyes flashing to the floor. When he looked up he gave a devilish grin, analysing Arianna's face. Her arm slowly dropped, with the colour suddenly flushing out from her cheeks. A look of revulsion swept over her, with her body appearing to sink into the mattress. Harkon looked at her with amusement.

"My, my, my dear, you look pale." He teased, in a sarcastic, humorous tone – but his words and quality were only amusing for him, as he continued to watch her with hilarity.

Arianna suddenly threw herself off the bed, hardly able to keep her balance as she stumbled away from it, chaotically swaying side to side as she hurryingly hobbled away, catching herself on the dresser – the same one, where she had found the blade. The knife slipped from her fingers and bounced across the floor with a shrill chime that echoed madly in Arianna's ears. "What have you done to me?" she panted, pressing most of her weight on the dresser; bowing her head to her chest.

"Me? Are you really blaming me for your mortal ailments? Did you forget, that it is a mortal's inconvenience to supply your body with enough food and water, daily? I doubt you have been getting your daily intake."

"You're… lying. What have you done?"

"You are delusional, my dear little lamb. Think about it. Why would I wish to poison your blood? It would prevent me from indulging it."

"F…fuck you." she muttered, shoving herself away from the dresser and attempting to rush away. She felt her head rattling and growing heavy. Her stomach pulled and twisted, with her throat a blazing dessert. She lost feeling in her arms; her legs.

With no other warning Arianna fell forward, plummeting towards the ground – expecting to greet it cruelly. Yet she greeted something else entirely. A force holding her above the ground, gripping gently onto her stomach and holding her torso. It heaved her back – it was a pair of arms, but not just any pair of arms, it was Harkon. Harkon had hold of her! He tugged her away from the ground and snappishly but tenderly lifted her to his torso, flipping her around so that he gript onto her back and legs. He held her limp body gently in his arms, with her body brushing against his chest. Her legs dangled beside his waist, with her head falling backwards. She was like a doll in his arms.

Holding her this close; having her so near, was intoxicating. Her rich smell engulfed him, and ensnared him in a hypnotic, ravenous trance. His eyes would not divert from her neck, stalking the vein that trailed down to her chest. There was something about her! Something that made her different. Something new!

With a shake of his head, Harkon snapped his head away and ambled towards the bed, gently placing Arianna down on it. He took in his scent for another time, brushing his finger across her vivid copper hair. He took a strand in his fingertips and twisted it – leaning his body down towards her, to inhale a deep wave of her delectable spiced scent. He lingered there for a moment, drunk on her honeyed, erotic perfume, before pulling away, and resting his eyes on her for another second.

In a flash he was gone, his movements undetectable and even unrecognisable. His swift movements were as quick as light, and could only be seen as a wave of shadow by the mortal naked eye. But he was back as rapid as he left, slipping onto the bed, and sitting beside Arianna, with his hand slipping under her neck.

As he lifted her up, Arianna's eyes fluttered open, with her face flooded with bewilderment. Harkon went to tip a glass to her mouth but she viciously went to jerk away, in a startled and muddled hostile manner. Harkon held her still, and continued to tip the glass to her. "Drink it," he ordered sternly, "as a mortal, you need water."

Arianna glanced at him, anxious to have him so near, with her lying vulnerably on the bed – hardly baring the energy to move. She reluctantly parted her lips, and allowed Harkon to press the cold glass to her mouth. The cold water flushing on her tongue and rushing down her throat was pleasing to her. She didn't realise how desperately she needed a drink.

"I'm surprised," Harkon chuckled, watching Arianna as she drank the water he tipped down her throat, "I didn't expect you to move out of bed, never mind rush around the way you did. After my bite, normally, you should have struggled to move out from where I left you. In fact, you are the first to survive my bite. Many others, waste away and perish as soon as I drop them to my feet."

Analysing her every move with his attentive, predacious eyes, Harkon hauled away the empty glass and chucked it to the floor. It did not crack nor shatter, but simply roll, before lightly hitting the stone slab of the balcony. Before Arianna could let a whisper escape her lip, Harkon brought his thumb to her bottom lip, smearing away the crystal water droplet that clung to her mouth.

"Why are you keeping me alive?" Arianna murmured, finding her gaze glued to his– the glowing depth to his burning eyes. There was something about him – something mysterious and superbly enticing. Any fear had flushed out of her. Maybe it was his consideration to keep her alive? Or the harmlessness of his actions? It was curious. There was something bewitching about him.

With a grin, he chuckled, "I think you know the answer to that, don't you?"

"Do you think that you can tame me, vampire?"

"Unquestionably."

"You're wrong."

"Am I?"

"You have no idea what type of girl I am- what I can do, and what I have done."

"And, you, my dear, cannot even imagine the things I have done, and will do to get my desires. Do you forget that I am a powerful vampire lord? I am death, and shadow and stealth and superiority. Nothing can stand in my way. Nothing can prevent me from attaining my desires."

"You don't scare me."

"I doubt that."

Arianna couldn't, and didn't, move away when Harkon craned his neck to shove his lips onto Arianna's. The taste of her luscious lips, was erotic and tingling for Harkon – tasting sweeter, with more sensuality than the last time their hungered lips met. He ran his hands through her hair, raking his fingers through her curling strands with his body shifting to perch over her.

His taste was something completely unique; sending shivers through Arianna's body. What was she doing? A part of her was screaming. She wanted to shove his weightily body off of her, and rush away like a child. But she didn't. The contemplations of how this was immoral clicked across her skull like an insect. She wasn't supposed to have her lips on a vampire for no apparent reason! She wasn't supposed to absorb the taste of him! She wasn't supposed to be doing anything but fight! So why was she doing this? It was if she was trapped in hypnotic spell. A treacherous trance.

Harkon continued to throw his tongue into her mouth, dancing it sensually around her tongue. He knew the thoughts that were racing through her mind – they were easy to guess, like reading a child's book. She was completely still beneath him, he noted – like ice. Motionless. But he knew, he knew that she was only battling with herself. Whenever she squeezed her eyes or trembled it was because to her, this was wrong – so dreadfully wrong.

His lips moved away from her mouth, and instead trailed down her neck, with his teeth ripping off the bandage from her skin. Arianna froze, a whimper erupting from her lips, but slowly, she started to relax into him, as he tenderly began to plaster her neck with stimulating kisses; flicking his tongue across her skin, in which Arianna bit down onto her lip – Harkon detected this, and chuckled as he swept his mouth back to her skin.

"I know you want this," he hummed, sending shivers up her spine, "I'm correct, am I not?"

He snickered, noting the way she fidgeted into the mattress; twisting a fist of the quilt in her hands. Her lips barred together tightly, with her head straining to focus on the headboard as Harkon stroked his tongue down to her chest. Slowly, he trailed his tongue up the centre of her neck, running up to her chin and back to her bottom lip, where he kissed and nipped the bottom of it lightly. He kissed her jaw line, and swept his hand down her waist and across her leg, - brushing his leg against her when his fingers ran through her hair.

Arianna could barely contain herself any longer, struggling to keep still beneath him. It was wrong, she knew that, but why? Why would she care? She had done a lot of things that she wasn't proud of her in her life, why was kissing a vampire back worse?

Unable to fight with herself anymore, Arianna roughly brought her hands to Harkon's head, cupping them around his skull as she pushed her lips against his, gasping in his mouth when his tongue moved across hers with such sensuality that it sent an ecstasy of shivers to rush up her spine.

The tremor of Harkon's low chuckles bounced in Arianna's mouth as their lips rammed against each other. Her hot skin was something erotic to Harkon. Her touch was like a blaze – fiery and dangerous. It made his sense come alive! It was something fresh, and thrillingly precarious!

The same screaming thoughts was pounding in Arianna's head as she welcomed Harkon's deep, touch – embracing the taste of him, the fiery hunger of his kisses and the stifling electricity of his embrace. What was she doing? By the eight, what the fuck was doing?


	5. That Immoral Yearning

**Hiya! I'm back with a new chapter for you all. Your support so far is so amazing for me, so thank you so much! I'm really enjoying writing this one so far, but I really wanna know what you guys think, so please leave a review sharing your thoughts - it will be great to hear what you all think of this so far. Like, what are you thoughts on my OC? Or on my portrayal of our vampire lord, Harkon? Anyway, in short, i'll shut up now and let you read. Enjoy~**

* * *

><p>This was not like her, Arianna knew it! Never had she allowed a man to come this close to her like this, caress and brush up against her body, the way Harkon was doing. Yes, her lips had lavished another's before, but this time… this time it was different- almost dissolute. This time her thoughts were racing, forever on loop to claw and smash at her brain. This was wrong! So wrong that it was frightening. Had she lost her mind? This vampire, this compelling lord, had held her here, in this retched castle, against her will. She never asked to be brought here. She never asked to be incarcerated in Harkon's chambers. She didn't even beckon the touch of his lips. So what was she doing? Giving in? Allowing this vampire to manipulate and restrain her to consume his precarious, impulsive needs? This was not like her. What was she doing? Why was she giving in like this?<p>

With the slick sweep of Harkon's hand, the vampire lord smoothly pushed Arianna's clothing up to her chest, with the gentle stroke of his calloused fingertips. A spark of panic bubbled within her. Alarm slithered across her skin as his hand gript her waist, with his body brushing against hers – his embrace closer, and more intimate now. Her lips were still on his, but her head sank further and deeper into the bed, with the beating of her heart thumping madly in her chest; the burning pulse of it made her sick.

Her hand rushed towards Harkon's, where she snatched it and shoved it away abruptly – the rapid beating of her heart making her whole body tremble. His lips were still locked onto her, with his glowing eyes drifting, to glimpse into her unsettled gaze. She struggled to the vibrations of his deep, rattling chuckles creeping down her throat, and grew wary at his perturbing stare. Slowly, Harkon pulled his mouth away from Arianna – the tip of his fang deliberately scraping deftly against her bottom lip. The rapid, captivating rhythm of the girl's heart amused him. Perhaps there was no distinctiveness in the girl's personality after all…

"I frighten you?" he chuckled, perching above her, with both of his durable, hairless hands, with their strong knuckles appearing more prominent now, resting on the mattress, beside either side of the girl's head. With a sluggish stretch of his finger, he could curl a strand of her red hair, and wrap it seductively around his glass-like nail – toy with it, as one would do to a doll, as his eyes studied the depth, and unease of the mortal's exquisite face.

Arianna stared restlessly into Harkon's eyes, analysing the unsettling red glow, and the menacing fervent hunger that was growing like a hazardous, biting blaze within them. As her wide eyes – glimmering with the faint glow of tears of dread – studied the burning orbs above her more attentively, panic grew like a disease inside her, and spread quickly across her frozen body in a wave of sharp, ghastly shivers that ceased her breath, and crushed the air in her lungs. A scratching lump of broken air callously crawled down her throat, with her teeth subconsciously clamping down on her lip as her eyes continued to look up at the vampire lord perching over her. Still gnawing on her lip, Arianna gradually shook her head, brushing her skull against the soft fabric, with her hair crumpling up in tangled ringlets on the pillow – flowing out from her head like reticent, wild vines.

Harkon curled his lip, exposing his fangs, with a chuckle drifting off from his tongue. Arianna let out a blast of air, with her chest rising and falling heavily, when the silently laughing vampire lord pulled away from her, slipping of from the bed; re-adjusting himself as he ambled over to the balcony. His glance drifted over to her, as he leaned against the stone slab, watching her, as she lied on the bed – her slender fingers discreetly stroking her chest, floating up and down with her heavy, deep breathing making her chest jump. She did not look at him; resting her head on the side, with strands of red hair falling across her face; her eyes studying the cracks in the stone walls – opposite side to Harkon. But Harkon watched her nonetheless – almost captivated by her mortal ways. The scent of fear drifted through the air; seeping out from her skin, in concentrated clusters of spiced perfume that wildly rushed towards him.

"You are still fearful?" Harkon inquired, with the tilt of his head; Arianna tensed at his words, "why?" he asked, curiosity hanging from his tongue.

Arianna only turned her head to glare at the ceiling, slowly drawing her legs up closer to her stomach, with fear making her body freeze to ice. She knew she was weak from her disregard of her mortal needs. She also knew the perilous hunger of ravenous men. She wasn't naïve to dismiss what their intimidate desires were; something warned her that vampires where no different – probably worse… much worse; with an extremely dangerous hunger making their cravings more treacherous, and ever more frightening.

"Some past memories haunting you?" he teased, tapping his nails into the stone as he watched her, "or your instincts guiding you away from a path of sensuality?"

A spark of anger sparked inside of her, with her body jolting upwards and her head snapping towards Harkon. "You dare try anything," Arianna hissed – shaking slightly from that hidden ounce of fear that brewed deep within her body.

"Try anything?" he responded, with a chuckle. "I gather that you no longer crave my touch?" with a smirk he took a step closer to her, scooping up the glass that had been left on the floor – twisting it in his fingers. He continued, placing the glass on the stone slab of the balcony and slowly striding towards Arianna, "Or, perhaps you do crave it…"

"Stay away from me!"

"But your desperate attempts to conceal that ravenous desire shrouds your true yearning. How interesting…"

"Don't come near me…" a cloud of panic overwhelmed her now, and there was no stop from the beads of tears that rolled down her cheeks as she reached the edge of the bed. A gasp erupted from her lips when she nearly slipped off, but Arianna gripped hold of the quilt and steadied herself – her ragged breath rasping in her throat as she glared at the vampire in front of her. He tilted his head, with a faint look of sympathy sweeping over him.

He spoke softly, a gentle whisper that drifted from his lips like a soft hymn, "Do you expect me rush over to you, wickedly take hold of you and pin you down as I force myself onto you against your will?"

Arianna chocked on the whimpers that throttled in her throat, "please…" she sobbed, bowing her head; quaking slightly now.

She jumped when she felt touch of his thumb on her cheek. Her breath spat out from her lips in broken, stifled gasps, as her eyes drifted towards the figure beside her. Harkon sat on the bed, tenderly smudging the tears away, clicking his tongue as she shivered beside him – fear snatching any words away from her tongue.

"Tut tut," Harkon began, pushing a strand of hair behind Arianna's ear, "my dear, forcing myself on you, against your own will… do you really think I am the type to do such a thing?"

Anxiously, Arianna chewed onto her lip, glaring at the patterns in the bed sheets, with her body still trembling to his touch. Yes, is what she thought. He was a vampire! Vampires were cruel, and cold. She feared that he was definitely capable of doing such a thing. She was swayed with the thought that he _would_ do such a thing… if he wanted to – and the growing hunger in his eyes warned her of that.

"I may be a vampire, and your perception of my kind may be shrouded with the acts of cruelty and brutality, but never have I, and never will I, force any mortal against her will. That, undeniably, includes you, little lamb. Even if your little… acts, are… tantalising, and becoming harder to forbear, I will never, force you. It is against my personal nature."

"I don't… trust you…"

"Hmm, is that so? Well, you trusted me enough, to kiss me."

"No, I …"

"Tut tut, don't lie to yourself. You cannot deny what you previously desired. If you believed it to be wrong or not, that yearning still consumed you – you could see it in your eyes… smell it, on your skin; feel it in your pulse."

"I don't trust you. Get away from me!"

"Shame, you treat my kindness and empathy with tedious hostility."

"Do you think I forgot what you did?"

Arianna roughly shoved the vampire away with the violent throw of her hands, shuffling heatedly further down the bed, with a growing anger bubbling in her blood. Harkon stayed where he was, watching her with curiosity and interest. She continued, spitting out her words as a brash, hostile growl, "you keep me here, against my will. You trap me in this fucking, grim place, against my will! You seize me; you lock me your clasp, and you… and you lap up nearly every drop of me, until I can no longer stand… so that fear engulfs me and takes over… so that everything around me turns dark… to a point where my heart nearly ceases beating… and you cruelly do this… against my will. So no, Harkon! I do not trust you! Your words… are poison."

"You should consider yourself lucky."

"Lucky!"

"What do you think would have happened if I didn't order for you to come here?" Harkon inquired with dreaded severity and austerity, speaking with more hostility now – a menacing, stern voice that gradually grew with anger; only becoming more and more frightful for Arianna - who collapsed from the bed to the floor in alarm. "What? Do you think that they would have just killed you, there and then? You don't know us at all – you do not know the depths my kind can go to in anger. I'll tell you what would have happened. You would have been thrown back to the one you attacked, most likely, and if so, you would be begging for death at this moment. For, I'm afraid, he does not share my nature. You would have suffered. You would have known only the torments of pain and agonising discomfort. He would have fed of you – if you was to be lucky, you would have died after the first feed – if not, he would most likely ravish your body; cause you pain as he forced himself upon you. And if any of the others where to get their hands on you, they would rip you apart!"

"Please stop…"

"I've been virtuous to you, and very lenient. So, little lamb, I would watch your tongue. You don't want me to leave you in the hands of other vampires of this court, now do you?"

The thought of it sent a horrid wave of shivers over Arianna's body. She froze with fear when the contemplations jabbed at her brain. What if she _was_ left to the hands of others? It made her ill thinking about it.

"If it will appease your tortured soul," Harkon said in a much softer tone, snatching the letter opener from the floor and toying with it in his hands, "I apologise for letting my… bite, go as far as it did. In all honesty, I did not intend for you to endure a… near death experience, you can say, but I suppose, the honeyed spice of your blood was just… too difficult to let go of. Plus, I hadn't fed in a good few months, so I was more… ravenous and thirsty than normal."

"Why a few months?" Arianna inquired after a long pause – the spark of curiosity driving her mad. "How often do you feed?"

"I'm stronger than most, and can go without a drop of blood for a while. The norm is to feed quite regularly… daily; weekly for some. However, I tend to expand my gap to, I don't know exactly, four…to possibly six or seven months, eight, if I can withstand it. I suppose it differs, depending on my mood."

"Mood?"

Harkon beamed; calmly walking over to her, as she lay like a discarded rose petal on the floor. Hissing chuckles drifted from his stretching, scarlet lips, with the shrill echo of his boot smashing into the stone floor, tremoring in Arianna's ears like the heavy brash thud of drums and shattering glass. She looked up at him with a stifled curiosity and suspicion as he stretched out his arm; hovering his opened, sturdy hand beside her face. Warily, Arianna took it, cautiously locking her slender fingers onto his palm, in which he swiftly hauled Arianna to her feet, with one slick, easy tug. "Anything can differ with mood, can it not?" he inquired with the elegant flick of his tongue, "and, you should know, that the mood of a vampire, can be extremely erratic and even… unstable."

"What gives you the impression that I would know that?"

"Don't play coy with me now, little lamb. You know precisely what I am on about."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I am stating, that this little run in with my kind, is not your first encounter. You've stumbled upon us before, haven't you? It's not surprising, as it would explain your tedious hostility, and doubt."

"Anyone who has a shrewder brain than a horker, will know not to trust a backstabbing leech, like yourself!"

"And there is your horrid hostility again… and when I was being so kind…"

"You think of me as a fool? I know what you're doing."

"Oh really? Tell me then, little lamb. Enlighten me with your contemplations. What am I doing?"

"You think that if you can unearth any secrets of my past, you can use it against me. Weaken me with my own memories! Well you can't, alright? I won't be so easily manipulated by your… your malicious, compelling vampiric ways! I'm not your typical nord girl, alright?"

"Hmm," the amused vampire responded, chuckling under his breath as he ran his fingers through Arianna's curling hair; cupping her skull with his hand as he tilted it upwards, so that she could glare more evidently into the burning depths of his glowing eyes. "You've made your point, I assure you." He added with a silent snicker, flicking his thumb across her chin, and brushings his fingertips across her jaw.

"So go ahead," Arianna snapped with the wicked arch of her eyebrow.

Harkon flashed his eyes to her, dazzled and bewildered with her response. He chuckled, prominently showing his impeccable, white teeth as his low laugh jumped off from his tongue. "Go ahead?" he repeated with hilarity, and a look of confusion sweeping over him, "go ahead with what, little lamb? Please, elaborate for me."

"Kill me. Or do whatever it is you intend to do with me, and quit fucking around."

"Kill you?"

"Look, whatever it is, just do it! This dreary wait… it's… it's extremely tedious and taunting. Can you just cut out your pathetic, tormenting game and just..."

"Killing you, is not on my current agenda. Have we not established that?"

"Current?"

The grating vampire lord just shrugged his eyebrows, and continued to study the mortal before him. It was like he was studying a painting, but a new, wonderfully unique painting that no one had ever witnessed. It was something to be treasured – something valuable and affluent. He was the only one with the rightful possession over it. He had the desired control, of this new, cryptic canvas.

"I should stab you in the neck!" Arianna barked with a snarl, but to her disappointment Harkon only laughed, with his grip slipping to Arianna's shoulders, and growing firm and rough as his hands clutched them.

"I would love to see you try."

"Maybe I will, who knows, maybe I'll be quick enough to smack something across that thick skull of yours."

Before another word could drift from parted lips, Harkon flung Arianna onto the bed, with her body rolling like a rag doll towards the head board. With a grunt she sat up, snapping the hair from out of her face as she glared at the vampire lord standing a few feet away from her, with her bright eyes squinting like small seeds.

"You shouldn't threaten me." He warned with the wave of his finger, followed by the coquettish grin stretching sweetly to his cheeks. The vampire lord's humour never failed to surprise her. But there was something about the way he twisted his mouth, and the way he exposed his teeth. His devilish grin was brewing with something sinful; flaring with sexual desire.

"Or what?" Arianna incited, "you said yourself that you won't kill me? So what will you do? What? You'll get angry? Huh? Well come on then, fucking show me! Show me what happens when a vampire gets mad!"

"You're being…" he goaded, shaking his head and spluttering out a weak chuckle as he slowly sauntered towards the bed, "extremely foolish."

Arianna pouted her lips; flicking her tongue across her teeth, "Is that the best you can do?" she teased, in a bothersome, sardonic manner, "You know, you're awfully disappointing for a vampire lord. You're not that powerful, or threatening."

In one movement Harkon was at her; low, hushed growls gradually rattling in his throat as he perched over Arianna, who had fell to her back. Arianana's breathing was heavy, with hot, spiced blasts of sharp breath colliding against Harkon's skin. She became lost in his eyes, the fiery allure of them. The sinful temptation of his acutely shaped lips. The immoral yearning for his skin. What was this? Harkon had ignited a blazing fire within her that was alien and bewildering to her. Never had anyone make her feel so electric; so impulsive and… hot. Nothing, like the perilous urge of yearning for the vampire that perched over her now, consumed her like this! This had to be dangerous, right? Tormenting an intimidating, and deadly powerful vampire lord… where would that get her? He could snap at any moment! He did say a vampire's mood could be erratic, and unstable even! Yes, she had said it, and yes she had told herself that she did not care, but did she really want to die here? These provocations were one step away from getting her killed. She was playing with fire! But damn did she crave the perilous heat of it!

He bent his head to her neck, brushing his lips slowly and wickedly up her neck to her ear. At that moment, Arianna was unsure what draw of her breath would be her last. But was she fearful of it? No. Having him this close to her now, like this, was, for some insane, unknown reason, almost erotic. The touch of him triggered a blanket of toe-curling shivers to riddle her skin. The beating of her heart quickened. The heat radiating of from her body intensified wildly. The tremors and sparks of desire didn't cease.

His fingers toyed with her neck, touching her in a way that made her heels dig into the bed, with a spark of shivers rushing up her spine. "With one effortless flick of my hand," he whispered into Arianna's ear, making her whole skin shudder, "I could snap your neck."

Arianna's breath became heavier; the wriggling of her feet more evident, as Harkon slipped his hand down to her chest, stopping below her breasts and massaging his thumb into her skin, in which a whispered murmur slipped out from her mouth.

"Here," he hissed, brushing his head deeper into here. He inhaled a long breath of her scent, and when a gust of hot breath purposely spurted from his mouth to hit Arianna's neck, he continued, "here, I could crush your ribcage, and shatter your mortal heart, with one light pressure of my thumb."

Her maddening pulse ran through Harkon's skin like a wave of treacherous electricity. When his lips touched Arianna's neck, a sharp gasp exploded from her lips; her heart racing with a suggestive rhythm; with her body squirming on the bed; occasionally brushing against Harkon's leg or torso, but still he perched over her. Her eyes had shut, with her head burrowing into the pillow beneath her skull; Harkon would detect the silent, stifled moans erupting inside her mouth, and used this to continue with his tease.

"And if," he continued, still whispering seductively into her ear with that same erotic golden voice that gave her shivers, and made her tremble, "if I was to go down further." As he spoke, his hand slowly swept further down Arianna's body; teasingly trailing down her stomach, with his fingers flicking the rim of her shorts. A gasp seeped out from Arianna's parted lips as Harkon's hand slipped under the fabric concealing her, with her body tensing when his thumb moved around her sex.

Arianna crumpled the sheets in her fists, moaning silently at the way Harkon handled her, and at the tingling sensation of his lips nestling into her neck. The tormenting slow movements of his thumb continued, with his lips and tongue lavishing the velvet skin on her neck. He felt her rapid pulse with his lips and stroked the throbbing vein with his tongue. Arianna harshly clamped her lips together, twitching her legs and tightening her fist as Harkon's touch became more pleasurable and wickedly intense for her. With her fighting to gasp, Harkon smashed his lips to hers, where, to his complete satisfaction, she gasped and moaned heavily, with hot puffs of breath gushing down his throat. In no time at all, Arianna keenly rushed her tongue into Harkon's mouth, probing, and tasting the fiery hot flavour of him. She was surprised that his lips and tongue were so warm, not warm in fact, but blazing hot! Vampires were supposed to be cold, and remote, but he was nothing of the sort! This was completely unlike the kiss before. Before, Arianna was unsure, and guilt and moral jabbed at her as their lips lavished each other. This time… this time it was different. Any uneasy contemplations were brushed away with new sensations sparking with passion. Her mind was swarming with the spicy, dark fireworks of ardour - all mad sensations that Harkon's fervour and sensuality had initiated.

Harkon pulled away; a whimpered moan slipped from Arianna's lips when both of his hands swiftly rushed to her clothing. With one flick of his wrist, he had tugged the tunic from her flesh and yanked the shorts from her skin. His lips were back at her mouth soon enough, with her body lying bare beneath him.

Arianna reached her hands up to grab at Harkon's clothing. All she felt was cold steel, and she struggled to find a way to get it off. A chuckle slipped from the vampire lord's tongue, and he pulled away. Swiftly, he unclipped his armour and chucked it to the floor. It toppled to the ground with a loud, brash thud that made Arianna spring up and snatch at the bottom of his red shirt. As Harkon ripped the gauntlets off from his wrist, Arianna shoved the shirt up his torso, caressing his hard, enticing skin with her fingertips, in which he soon took over and hauled it quickly over his head.

Arianna glared at him in wonder for a moment. Gaping at his robust, firm chest and his pale skin that was as impeccable, and faultless as the moon. The thump of his boots crashing against the floor awoke her from her trance, and soon enough Arianna was on her back again, with Harkon perching over her, pecking and nipping at her neck and breast.

His hands toyed with the belt swathed around his waist, and ripped it away from his pants. Arianna suddenly grabbed Harkon's head, and tugged it down to kiss it. Her lips lavished his as his body moved closer to her; his hand brushing across her waist and toying with her exposed breast.

Arianna's eyes widened, with her lungs holding in her breath, when she felt him linger at her entrance. His glowing, lustful eyes shackled to her own, with his lips crashing down onto her mouth, as he lightly slipped his throbbing organ inside of her. With his sinful, dominant kiss taking her last gasps of breath away, the vampire lord thrust inwards, slipping deeper inside of her, triggering a blissful blend of pain and ecstasy to tremor through Arianna's body.

She would have cried out, if his lips were not bound to her own, so instead, moaned heavily into Harkon's mouth; drowning his tongue with her long blast of air; encouraging his arousal, and enticing him more when her body shuddered with pleasure to his deep touch. His tongue explored her mouth, amused and highly fulfilled by her ragged gasps that erupted on his tongue, as his hips swayed with a tingling, wild rhythm.

She moved on her own account. Matching the deepness and speed of his movements. With each time his length pulled out and thrust back into her, a wave of roaring pleasure erupted within her, making moans and cries of bliss explode from her lips, with her very core melting every time he rocked her shuddering body. Every inch of her was tingling with the wild pleasure confusing her swaying body. Low golden grunts ruptured from Harkon's lips, with his speed and force, matching the fervent hunger and unruly desire in his blazing eyes.

Arianna hugged him to her, raking her fingernails down his back with such force and ferocity that strings of blood began to trickle out from his hot, translucent skin. This incised him more, feeding his ravenous yearning for her. He could feel her pulse quickening. Beating louder and with more viciousness by the second. The fangs locked behind his lips throbbed with pain. Her smell grew stronger and more irresistible, and with each hot droplet of sweat, a burst of consuming spiced perfume hit him with a spiteful force.

As she cried out her intensified pinpoint of pleasure; shivers scuttled across every inch of her, with moans drifting from her lips as her back arched beneath him. Harkon knew he could not hold himself back any longer. A sharp cry of pain slipped from Arianna's mouth when Harkon's fangs exploited the urge to pierce her skin. Hot blood flooded across his tongue, triggering a deep groan to glide from his lips. To his surprise, Arianna made no attempts to push him away, but instead let him lap up her mouth-watering life fluids; being most delicious and seductive at this point.

Harkon pulled his lips away, hardly any blood tainting his lips. His forehead nestled into Arianna's, absorbing the sweet, arousing heat of her as he finished of his lustful hunger. He continued to fervently rock into her; furious growls rumbling in his chest with his hand gripping her hair. Arianna panted heavily, as Harkon delivered his final movements – groans erupting from his lips with his back arching beautifully.

He stayed for a moment, both mortal and vampire panting for breath – absorbing the hot condensation from each other's ragged gasps – until he finally pulled out of her, sending the final shivers to flush up her body. Harkon flopped to the side, still gasping but not as much as the mortal beside him, who struggled for breath or thought, as she glared up to the ceiling.


	6. Maybe It's In Her Blood?

**Hey everyone! :D**

** I just want to say thank you to every one of you amazing people, for giving this fanfic a read, and an even bigger thank you to anyone who has left a review or decided to follow or favourite this story. It's amazing, you're all awesome! Well, I hope that you all are enjoying the story so far; your support for it is great! **

**Please, i would be delighted to hear your thoughts, so dont shy away from leaving a review, but please be nice, so no flares... is that what the "internet slang" for harsh comments is? Sorry, i dont have a clue haha. **

**Anyway, i'll shut up now. Enjoy! And have a lovely day :) ~**

* * *

><p>The vampire and his exhausted mortal lolled in sweet silence for a moment, relishing their own nakedness, with the only sound deriving from the heavy blasts of breath bursting from Arianna's parted lips. Harkon was humorously pleased to hear the constant, quick, heavy beating of the girl's lusting heart, but strangely enough, even his thudded against his chest. Had that happened before? He had taken several mortals to bed in his time, but he never recalled his heart… beating in such a manner…<p>

Groaning seductively as he turned, Harkon shuffled closer to Arianna; tenderly pecking her shoulder blade, as she lay there, broodingly observing the grey stone of the ceiling. After a few more encouraging kisses, she turned her head, to look upon the vampire lord whom she had willingly given herself to. Still, as she rested on the bed beside him, regaining control of her breathing, she pondered if it was unwise to do such a thing.

"You have blood on your lips," Arianna sighed, with the cock of her eyebrow.

"And you have it on your neck," he purred in a flirtatious, alluring manner; snapping the droplet of blood from his lip with the flick of his finger, and pushing the blood stained fingertip into his mouth, to lick and suck every last delicious drop from his skin. "I apologise," he droned with a snicker, toying with Arianna's red hair, and tenderly twisting the strand in his fingers, "I'm not normally messy, I guess, you must have made me lose my control."

"Perhaps."

His lips smacked onto her skin, sucking and nipping lightly on her bare neck with his hand snaking across her waist. With an easy tug, he gently pulled her to him, with shushed moans humming in Arianna's throat as Harkon's tongue toyed with her skin. His body shoved her slightly, so that slowly, she would start to roll onto her stomach.

"No!" she suddenly screamed out, shuffling away, with her body falling and staying on her back.

Harkon glared at her with confusion. He grinned, tilting his head as he chuckled, "what is the matter? Something you don't want me to see?"

"Perhaps," she murmured timidly.

Harkon squinted his eyes, analysing the concealment washing across her anxious face. There was almost any element of pain glowing within her vivid, glassy eyes…

He took Arianna softly by the chin, gently rotating her head so that she could look upon him. By this time, a tear had spluttered out from her eyelid, and rolled carelessly down her cheek. "My dear," he soothed, his golden voice melting her core as he spoke, "you shouldn't hide from me."

"It's just a mark," Arianna stuttered, with more stray tears spilling out from her stinging eyes.

"A mark?" he retorted, with the lift of his eyebrow; smearing her crystal tears away with the stroke of his thumb. A chuckle silently slipped off from his tongue; his lip curling into a smile; with a gleam of white, sparking from his immaculate teeth that he vaguely displayed, "And where is this mark? Are you effortlessly concealing it with your hair?"

"It's not normally easy to conceal…" she murmured gloomy, swallowing the sniffles that attempted to erupt from her.

"How disreputable! I hope it's not harmful," he teased with a coquettish grin.

"Not anymore."

"Curious, I am intrigued."

"You shouldn't be," she sighed, flicking her eyes down to peer at the bed sheets, "you would probably find it grotesque, and shameful..."

A gasp spurted from Arianna's scarlet lips as Harkon suddenly, and abruptly yanked her upwards, so that she was sitting up; crashing against his bare torso. Her palm collided against his robust, and impeccable chest, with her fingertips probing at the small muster of dark hairs between his firm breasts. "In fact," he whispered seductively, with each letter pronounced perfectly and beautifully; sending a wave of shivers to scuttle down Arianna's spine. "I like girl's who bare a few scars to their body," as he whispered his gilded words, his mouth swept from her shoulder to her neck, with his facial hair pricking and tickling her skin as he nestled his mouth deeper into her. He continued, brushing his head up to her ear, occasionally nipping at her lobe as his honeyed words flowed into her ears, like strings of liquid silk, "it adds character; depth. It shows me your inviolable, venomous nature, which is, exceptionally … arousing."

"You know your way with words," she rigidly responded, between ragged pants of breath that ruptured from her mouth in stimulating gasps of hot air. A thin smirk broke across Harkon's face as his lips pecked tenderly into Arianna's neck with a blazing, deep passion; her moist skin flaring with a sensual heat, with her pulsating fiery hot veins throbbing against the sensual pressure of Harkon's lip.

"Are you really going to hide yourself from me?" he whispered calmly into her ear, in stimulating, shushed hisses that dripped with the searing poison of perilous passion.

Her glowing eyes timidly drifted up to gape into the glowing, red orbs he beautifully bore. Never had she felt an element of timidity or vigilant hesitation around a man. His burning eyes, the sculptured face; the fiery presence of his sinful being, triggered a completely new, and alien feeling to mask her body. Apprehension, such like the foreign, staggering emotions of a naive adolescent, decorated her skin in knots of vexing shivers. What was this? An un-ruling sensation that sparked so much heated flame within her! A desirous taste that overwhelmed her tongue and flooded her mouth! A dangerous craving for the touch of his skin – a craving which she should have never allowed to take over her!

"I hardly know you," she finally answered – shaking with ingenuous shyness; with muffled sobs throttling her breath. "This is wrong."

Arianna flashed her eyes downwards as Harkon slickly ran his fingers through her hair; moulding her delicate, warm face with the tender press of his hardened fingertips. "This was wrong," she mumbled, chewing recklessly on her bottom lip as the delicate scratch of Harkon's facial hair prickled the skin on her neck.

"If you see it as wrong, or not," he whispered down her neck; his drifting breath triggering her whole body to quiver against him, with muffled moans shuddering silently in her throat. He continued; his teeth harmlessly scuffing against her velvet skin, "you still committed the act, which you perceive as so horrid; so sinfully wrong. Perhaps, doing the right thing, is not something for you to stage, little lamb. Perhaps doing the wrong thing, is what brings that passion within you, ablaze…"

"Stop!" she protested, shoving Harkon away from her brusquely. Without thought, she scanned down to look upon herself; mortification and brash feelings of indignity hit her, forming in her startled face in glowing red blotches in her cheeks. A soundless burst of laughter ruptured in Harkon's throat, as he watched the blushing mortal quickly snatch a heavy hand of the quilt beneath her; frantically pressing the sheets up to her body, and holding them there sternly with a humorous look of shame flushing across her pink face. "I don't want to play your games anymore!" she cried, hugging the sheets to her chest with her chin nestling into the fabric.

"Oh, little lamb," he teased, "did I wear you out?"

Harkon gave an impulsive, coquettish grin, snappishly thrusting his arm towards her; seizing the sheets roughly in his grasp and towing them away swiftly, with his body lunging onto Arianna as she fell to her back.

The silk sheets glued to her clammy skin – poking at her belly button, and like torturous serpents they wrapped around her thighs, penetrating the bottom of her stomach with its rough silk edge. Harkon perched above her, resting gently on her petite body. Her sticky limbs subconsciously curled around him. Her shapely calves emerged from the silk, and brushed against the bare skin of the vampire leaning into her ever so passionately. The thumping heart in her chest called out to him, yearning for that sinful touch. Was it so wrong to so urgently crave his touch for another time? To feel the warmth and passion of his skin, or to share the blazing echo of his gilded voice, and the explosive gasps of sensuality? Was is so immoral to perform such imprudent carnal desires with such a man? Was it so wrong to want it so badly?

Displaying his teeth for another time, Harkon bent his head to Arianna's face. With not another glance, he vigorously smashed his lips onto her own, sliding his tongue into her mouth, in her gasp of surprise – probing; tasting her hot mouth; absorbing the delectable spice of her tongue, and warming his own cooled tongue against hers. His hand swept up her torso; Arianna trailed her own hand up his back – tracing her lenient, soft fingertips across his spine.

His body collapsed more heavily onto her, with his hands snaking around her waist; his lips pecking her chest; his tongue occasionally jabbing the tip of her breast. Arianna gasped into the air – her throat, extending, like a swan, and burrowing into the pillow beneath her skull. Slowly, ever so tortuously slowly, Harkon drifted his lips up to her breast, with his tongue circling around her perked nipples. Viciously, Arianna raked her fingernails through Harkon's hair, clutching tightly onto his skull as his mouth pressed against her breast; gasps erupting from her lips with her heavy heart thumping chaotically in her throat. With her fidgeting legs drifting higher up his body, and with her pulse racing madly, Harkon sank his unsheathed fangs into her breast. One hushed cry slipped from her tongue, as his fangs pierced the delicate fragment of her flesh. In her quick moment of pain, Arianna savagely chomped her teeth against her lip, and a heavenly, hot string of blood slowly began to trickle from her plump, rouged lips.

She gasped and groaned as Harkon sipped the hot honeyed blood from her breast, lapping up any droplets that leaked from the bite-mark carved into her porcelain skin. Groans rattled in his chest, as he indulged her distinctive, and hazardously addictive flavour. Though, the vampire lord only lingered there for a moment, soon sweeping his head further up Arianna's body; tenderly taking hold of her– his hand coiling around her neck and bending it to him. With the curve of his tongue, he charmingly licked the blood off from her lip, with an erotic, passionate flick – soon shoving his mouth onto her blood drenched lips, to lap up every drop, and to drain more delectable life-fluids from her dancing tongue.

When at last he wrenched himself away, she was left without a mouthful of air – panting for breath with her chest jumping up and down wildly. He brushed his lips across her breast once again, snapping up every valued droplet; flicking her hardened nipple with the tip of his tongue before pulling away. With a theatrical, and satisfied groan, the gratified vampire lord lugged himself off from the bed; snatching his discarded pants from the floor and swiftly thrusting into them whilst Arianna lay breathless and consumed on the bed, with the thin sheets pasted to her sweaty limbs; profanely snaking around her thighs and waist.

Two quick knocks flustered the sweet silence. Arianna suddenly jumped up, ready to leap from it and rush somewhere. What if someone waltzed in? What if someone seen her… like this? But before she could move, Harkon was at her – his lips roughly pressed against her mouth; his charming touch seductively guiding her back, to lay down, as she just was, on the bed. She couldn't help but whimper pleasurably into his mouth, with her body falling heavy – as if he had cast an enthralling incantation upon her.

"Don't move," he ordered sweetly with the curl of his lip, tugging his mouth away from her, with a strong, icy look of authority glowing in his piercing eyes. Chuckling soundlessly to himself, he proceeded to calmly caper down the stone steps, leisurely sauntering towards his door – adjusting himself in his pants; securing the button and zip which held the fabric on his waist, as he walked.

Arianna felt compelled to do what he instructed. The thought of moving an inch gave her shivers. It was peculiar, as he did not beacon the order in a harsh or alarming way. It was, in fact, wreathed with golden silk, shaking with passion and seduction. With the alluring flick of his tongue, he had shed a spell on her, and now she felt constrained to stay completely still – frozen like ice. She lay unmoving, like stone, with the corner of the silk sheets draping daintily over parts of her leg – dimly concealing her sex. Why was this? She had never took to orders so kindly before. She could move, run if she wished, but she didn't even twitch. She just listened out for him. Awaiting the moment when she would hear the enthralling echo of his footsteps delicately trample up the steps.

She didn't hear the footsteps; didn't detect the faint pat of his bare feet. She was looking up at the ceiling, focusing on any sounds that may fleet into her ears, when she felt the electric touch of his skin. A gasp ruptured from her lips, as a hand suddenly swept up her thigh – with the officious, erotic touch of his hardened fingertips giving her shivers.

"You haven't even moved an inch," he purred, his lip curling with amusement. His fingertips slowly brushed further up her thigh, drawing circles in her skin. Grinning to the tremors cloaking her, Harkon abruptly snatched Arianna's waist with his free hand, roughly lugging her body so that it slipped slightly underneath him. A startled blast of breath blew in his face from her parted lips. Harkon shackled his eyes onto her own, absorbing the brightness – watching the shape of them gradually grow wider; simmering with anticipation and apprehension.

"I thought it would take longer for you to submit to me so easily," he chuckled, still purring as he ran his hand up and down her leg. Arianna opened her mouth to rejoinder, but Harkon quickly silenced her with the force of his lips burying into her own.

He pulled away, flicking his tongue across her scarlet lips as he purred, "now, how about something to eat?"

"I d…"

Silencing her again, Harkon gently smacked his thumb on Arianna's lip, brushing his thumb down her and probing at her mouth. "Tut tut, don't speak" he scolded roguishly, "it was not a suggestion." Humming seductively, he irresistibly brushed his head suggestively up her neck, the prickles of his facial hair making her quake, with the sharpness of his light kisses making her heart race. Stopping at her ear, he whispered coquettishly, all the time making it hard for Arianna's eyes not to roll to the back of her head. "Now," he purred, nipping at her ear lobe with the edge of his teeth, "you're not going to go anywhere are you?" He took note to how she gnawed onto her lip, with her heels digging impulsively into the mattress. With a playful grin, he continued, never ceasing to give her shivers, "just know, if you go prying, I will find out. I'm sure you do not want to know the consequences?"

Burying his lips into her one last time – swooning her with his blazing sensuality – he whispered, "you are mine." With not one other murmur, he was gone. Leaving as swift as he came; leaving Arianna alone and breathless on the bed – still frozen from his sensual commands. Despite the faint hint of seriousness in his tone, she did not feel threatened. What would he do? What could he do to frighten her?

She lay there for a moment, toying with the silk quilt she had tugged to her chest, letting the contemplations flood her head. You are mine. You are mine? What did he mean by that? Arianna brought her eyebrows together and snarled, twisting and pursing her lips as the maddening notion burrowed deeper and deeper into her skull. You are mine? Was he serious? The more the thought scurried across her brain, the more annoyance and ire bubbled up inside of her. Who did he think he was? Did he expect her to be his? Was she an object? In frustration, with her fist smashing down viciously onto the bed, Arianna leapt up from it – holding the silk sheets around her as if it was a poorly made, but delectable soft, dress that trailed awkwardly down her leg. Anger was clearly splattered across her distorting face as she angrily paced up and down the floor, furiously smashing her bare heel violently into the floor as she flounced up and down heatedly.

Furiously puffing out a blast of breath from her lips, Arianna hastily bent down and roughly scooped up her tunic and cotton shorts. Only until now had she realised that she had been given clothes suitable for a prisoner. Arianna rolled her eyes, tossing the quilt on the bed once the clothes fitted snuggly around her body. She knew what that meant for her. Harkon wasn't going to let her leave anytime soon…

The rumbling of Arianna's stomach was becoming a bother. Whenever the air was still and her mind got a chance to wander, the brash growl from her stomach disturbed her. The painful tug of emptiness grinding in her gut didn't help either. The idea of food was swarming in her head. Her mouth watered to the thought of a tender loaf of warm bread beside a hot bowl of stew. She sighed, slumping her shoulders; leaning sloppily on the balcony as she imagined the delectable taste of juniper wine, or honeyed mead.

Where was he? Raking her fingers through a knotted cluster of her red hair, Arianna proceeded on fulfilling her boredom – by snooping. But she couldn't possibly go prying, could she? The reckless mortal snorted under her breath, probing at furniture and throwing her head in wardrobes and draws. Nothing. He was a vampire! Not just a vampire, a vampire lord! How could he have nothing of interest in his chambers?

Letting a tangled veil of hair fall messily over her face, Arianna let out another sigh and looked cautiously to the room, in which she had saw the coffin. With just a glimpse, she grew cold, as if the icy claws of cruel winter and ensnared her maliciously, there and then.

Slowly, she apprehensively crept over to the door, reluctantly extending her arm to reach for it. Arianna shook her head, snapping back her arm and shaking away the shivers that tried to scuttle up her flesh. "Nope," she sighed to herself, slamming her body onto the wall beside the door. Yet, curiosity consumed her nonetheless. What could go wrong? It's just a room. As she stood there, folding her arms tightly over her chest, slowly, her eyes began to drift towards the door, analysing the old wood and the wilting frame. Quickly snapping her head behind her to check for any lurking vampires – a specific vampire lord in particular – Arianna, without letting anymore thought consume her, quickly plunged inside.

She braced herself for a blast of cold to smash against her, but nothing of the sort happened. To her surprise, unlike the last time, no change in temperature startled her. But still, when glimpsing at the daunting coffin at the back, she grew restless, with a wave of shivers makes her tremble. Though this time, to her despair, the door was open, revealing the shady, sinister insides, draped with a red and black slick bed liner, with trimmings of royal gold around the edges. Arianna had to quickly pull her glance away from it to avoid the veil of shudders submerging her.

It was empty. Inadequately empty. Was this it? Arianna looked around, determined to catch a glimpse of something of value and worth consideration. Nothing. Nothing but an empty coffin, a flaming gothic brazier, a tall wooden dresser and a bloody wilting table, submerged with goblets and one singular mead barrel. Nothing.

Despite Arianna being convinced that nothing of interest was in this room, she still found herself lingering inside, soon to gingerly slink over the tall, thin dresser to take a peep. When the grand, varnished door swung open, a look of confusion splashed across her frowning face. It was bare. With nothing but a blank of red wood to greet her. That couldn't possibly be it? Why would a vampire have something so pointless in a room that is enclosed to everyone?

She was not convinced. There had to be something! Drawing her hand into a gentle fist and waving it beside the wooden back of the wardrobe, she knocked her knuckled against it lightly. Nothing. She tried again, and again. Moving her position slightly each time. "Come on!" she found spitting out as her fist continued to tap the wood, and finally, something called out to her. Hollow wood. She knew the sound perfectly. A triumph grin stretched to her cheeks; her fingertips slipping into the tiny edges of the wood. It didn't take much effort; soon enough, Arianna managed to haul the wooden slap to the left, exposing what secrets were so cunningly concealed inside.

"Is there nothing that can hinder your prying eyes?" a voice hissed, bouncing with humour.

Arianna knew immediately who it was, falling backwards and gasping when the gilded, husky voice registered in her brain. "I wasn't doing anything!" she blurted out in panic, instantly grimacing at her pitiful, childish accuse of a rejoinder.

"Wasn't you?" the vampire lord teased sardonically, intimidating Arianna slightly as he calmly walked over to her. His glance wandered to the opened dresser when he reached her, small, discreet chuckles bouncing in his throat before his glance drifted back to Arianna, who was glaring at her toes – unwilling to look up; shrouded with unrest. "Didn't I tell you to stay put, and not go anywhere?"

Arianna let out a sigh, craning her neck to look up at Harkon, who was closer to her than she initially thought – perching over her like a protective, predatory beast. "Well, it was more of a question than a command," she smartly scoffed; a glow of smug satisfaction flushing in her pink cheeks.

Her witty response struck Harkon with surprise. It made her, to him, much more of a curious individual. No one would ever dare to speak to him in such a way. What drove this mortal to come out with such a perilous response? Still astonished, and secretly quite entertained, the vampire lord lifted his eyebrow, unsure whether to allow a chuckle to break the silence. No. This time he just watched, studying her face, waiting for her to grow uneasy with his piercing glare.

Arianna spoke first, speaking quite abruptly with a severe tone, which again, only amused him, "wasn't expecting that, was you? You can't threaten me."

Did she think this was smart? Harkon chuckled, roughly grasping the back of Arianna's neck, causing a stifled squeal to erupt from her lips as he dragged her head closer to him. There's was something about the fire within her, something enchanting; something desirable. Her spite and confidence would be disappointing to go to waste. Perhaps, he could use it…

"You never did tell me what sparks your hatred for vampires," Harkon chuckled, bowing his head closer to hers, smiling with maliciousness as he looked up into her vivid, multi-coloured eyes.

"It's a more sensible approach," she chocked, gritting her teeth and avoiding contact with his stare.

"Oh really? So, your idea of jumping into bed with a dangerous vampire lord, is a sensible approach?"

Arianna grew quiet. He was right. When was jumping into bed with a vampire, more importantly, a vampire lord, the sensible thing to do? Had she forgotten her values? Had she thrown away her antipathies and torments? What made her do it? Why did she want to do it so badly? Why did she want him, a dangerous, impulsive vampire lord, so desperately?

Not moving away from Arianna, Harkon reached out his arm, shoving the dresser door shut with the push of his palm. It creaked, with the faint slam making Arianna jump with discomfort. For the first time in her life, she felt submissive - submissive and powerless. Harkon never demanded her, she offered herself to him freely, and now he had control over her. He had branded her with the stinging mark of his teeth – carved a piece of himself more than once into her flesh. Not only had he taken her blood, but taken her body too. With him, she had even lost her mind. Obedient! She had never been submissive, or bent to someone's demands or desires without fight! What was it that made it so easy for her to become his little puppet?

But there was something about him. Perhaps it was the glow in his eyes? His seductive words or his golden voice, flowing with passion? Maybe he was right. Doing the "right thing" was not something for her. She could hardly recall ever doing the right, or expected thing. There was always something which made her different, kept her deviant or wild. Maybe it was in her blood? Maybe it sparked her anger, and fight? Maybe it triggered these unruly, lustful desires to surge from her flesh? Maybe it was the cause for attraction towards this vampire? Arianna thought for a moment, holding her breath; growing tense and rigid. Attraction? It was obvious from the start that she found this man, this vampire, attractive and alluring, but she had never truly admitted it to herself! Why? It suddenly hit her, like a spark of searing flame that had up until now shone dimly. Why should her carnal desires for this vampire lord, for Harkon, be something shameful or wrong? Yes, in a lot of aspects it was terribly wrong, but she had being responsible for a lot of wrong throughout her life. Here, there was no one to judge and oppress her. If she embraced it, accepted the craving in her lusting heart, would that be so terrible, and so harmful?

With a strong assertion growing in her eyes, Arianna peered up to glare at Harkon. She felt an intense level of certainty and liveliness brewing deep within her, erupting like a raging storm inside her. Only now, when her hands sternly clasped onto Harkon's shirt, twisting a clump of it in her fists, did she realise that he was fully clothed. Harkon, once again, was overwhelmed with the spur of shock, as Arianna threw her lips onto his mouth, pressing against him with a stern force and passion. She balanced on her tiptoes, keenly rushing her tongue into her mouth, almost grinning as she felt the light pressure of hands grip her back.

He guided her out of the room, not once pulling his lips away from her, slamming the door shut with the kick of his foot when the warmth of his open chambers caressed their skin. When he did pull away, a disappointed whimper broke from Arianna lips, with her head reluctant to move away from his. Harkon chuckled, trailing his finger delicately down her cheek.

"Would you like to eat?" he purred calmly, still stroking her soft skin.

Arianna kept her eyes closed, embracing the tenderness of his touch. With a sigh, she calmly inquired, smiling gleefully as she spoke, "is that a command?"

Harkon laughed, trailing is finger down to her neck; following the shape of her collar bone, "no," he chuckled, "It's your last request."


End file.
